Sketchbook
by Rayne Fenrir
Summary: Chapter 13: Strange new monsters straight out of hell make their appearance in Karakura; our familiar heroes continue their respective battles, unaware of the masked newcomers continuing to make their move.
1. The Warrior Kuchiki

Well, this is my first story, so please be gentle on your reviews... But be honest in your critique, so I can progess from my mistakes.

I should just say this... if I don't update for awhile, it means I have problems at home/friends/computer/, or I'm busy. I actually have a social-life, though almost nonexistent.

I've had this idea with no ending, so I'm not sure what will happen; I'll just let the spirit of the story and the charachters take me there. It is a BLEACH fanfic (authored by: Tite Kubo) which I have currently seen. It is also an Ichiruki fic, because I admire both the charachters. Both are a bit more serious in here; I wanted to touch the "warrior-side" of Rukia, not just the elegant lady or the ravenous, chappy loving girly-girl. Of course I will incorporate all of the above, simply because they ARE a part of her charachter. Ichigo is a tad bit older and therefore more thoughtful. This will not be a lovey dovey (OOooooh, take me now) kinda fic. This is about the "real-deal" love. And mistakes that happen, regrets, happiness, sorrow, anger, etc.

Note: There will be Other Charachters introduced. I have gone over them meticulously, making sure that they are not some sort of subconcious "carbon-copy" of myself, and doing my best to make sure they aren't a "Mary-sue" or stereotype. I want this story to seem more realistic, so therefore people will have faults; it's human. Some people dislike OC's; I like them if they're done well. I do them simply to practice with creating one, complete with habits, personality, and so forth. Also because I have a fear of twisting another author's charachter to suit my benefit into something that does not fit the original charachter. I present this story as I see them.

Now enough talking on my part.

Well, here you go...

oOo

Rukia quickly peeked out of Ichigo's bedroom door, though she knew that he and none of his family members were due home for at least another day, and she could relax. She would clean up all evidence that she had once again come to sleep in "her" closet and return back to the room she shared with his two sisters. Even though she was thankful for the Kurosaki's generousity, with a bed and more space, she somehow felt unsecure, and the closet was a welcoming as ever; the closed in comfort, like a childish secret hiding place, the smell, and the even the dark wood paneling; she had become so used to it, made her feel safe, and though she didn't really want to admit, it was always satisfying to know that _he _was just outside the door. Finally, after her senses were satisfied, she shut the door tightly and proceeded to open the window, letting in a cool, fresh breeze and the afternoon rays. It was a perfect day. And she had it all to herself.

She flopped contentedly on Ichigo's bed, stretching her limbs and sinking into the rich sea of fabric. Why had they left again? Oh, right. Some sort of "Stupid-ass-family-fun-time". (As Ichigo had so blatantly announced to her,) From what she had overheard however, it was some sort of camping trip, for almost a week. She felt a twinge of loneliness inside of her before it ebbed away. What was his problem anyway? If her family had asked her to go on a trip with them, she would have been thrilled. Or if anybody had asked at all.

Suddenly she smiled, hugging the fluffy pillow tightly to her chest. But she knew better. He didn't really mind all that much. He would want to go, she knew, he would go to watch over them and keep them safe. It was just his way, that's all. His scowling, grouchy, and yet somehow, comfortable way.

And on the plus side, Kon had gone with him, in case Ichigo ran into trouble and needed " a quick change".

She got up and stretched her arms gracefully over her head, like a elegant bird about to take flight. First on her list for today, she wanted to take a nice, warm bubble bath. She opened the door and headed confidently to the bathroom.

oOo

Oh, sweet heaven.

Sweet, sweet heaven!

She sank deeper into the warmth around her, the fragrance tickling her nose pleasantly Oh it was heaven, and choclate, and Chappy, all mixed into this moment. When was the last time she had had a good bubble bath; two, three years? It sure felt like it, anyway. The bubbles spread out across the surface of the water like a fluffy blanket; playfully, she blew a bit of the foam into the air, tried to see how long it would stay afloat before sinking back down and dissolving to nothingness in a patch of open water. Eyes of midnight darkness became thoughtful as the water lapped against her skin.

How long did she have before she too, would have to dissapear again? She had already done so once, and in the end,_ he _had brought her back. But even so, what if one day...

She shook her head from such thoughts. She shouldn't be brooding over such things! Especially today.

Finally, she emptied the tub and rinsed herself off in rather frigid water, watching the last of the bubbles dissapear down the drain grail and out of sight. After she had wrapped her small form in a towel and returned to Ichigo's room, she quickly changed into something of Karin's, (A set of ominous looking red and black pajamas,) and went back to her closet. No, correction. Ichigo's closet. She fished around underneath the blankets of her makeshift bed, until she felt the weathered cover. She smiled to herself and whisked it into the open air, a tattered looking black sketchbook, and one of her most guarded secrets. She spun into Ichigo's chair and set the book with a thump on the matching desk. Yes, this was it, one of her most treasured items. She opened to the first page.

The first picture was crude, an attempted sketch of a hell butterfly she had seen, back when she still lived with Byakuya in Seritei. It was nowhere near the delicate ebony wings and light form, more like a dark smudge on the paper. She flipped a few pages forward; the pages blurred past, slowly becoming more shapely, more like what she had been attempting to draw. It was as if she was watching her skill grow from being cramped and unsure, to flowing and easy. She stopped at a page near the middle, a vibrantly red rose. A few gems of dew clung to its would-be frgrant petals, still and so real it looked as if it would rise up from the page and spread itself toward the sun beaming in through the open window. She felt a bit or pride well-up; this picture had been her first real-good one, had spent a lot of time and care, making sure to catch every detail.

She flipped to another page, a rather childhish sketch of Renji sitting in his favorite tree outside of the Academy. Her fingertips glided lightly over the red-headed figure before turning the page.

Finally she came to an empty page and stopped, drawing a black colored pencil from the holder on the inside of the cover. She brought the point down to touch the page and suddenly paused. What should she draw? Her face became thoughtful before lighting up, swiveling her chair with it's back to the desk, and she began.

oOo

She had been so intent on putting the finishing touches to her sketch of Ichigo's room that she missed the beeping of her cellphone. When it finally did register, she dropped her pencil and quickly fished the gadget out of her pocket, flipping it open.

A hollow was nearby. She would have to do this alone today, which wasn't a problem.With the recovery of her powers, she was slowly becoming more and more like the warrior she had been in her prime. Quickly, she went over to Ichigo's underwear drawer and began fishing through his clothes. Finally, she fished out the Soulreaper badge, and placed it gently against her chest.

There was a small vibrant pulse, and her gigai collapsed to the floor. She stood now in soul reaper garb, Shirayuki clasped tightly in her small grip. Silently, she leaped out the window and was racing across the tiled rooftops, intently watching her phone as she rushed away like a swallow on the breeze.

Back in Ichigo's room, a few pages of the sketchbook fluttered towards the back in a sudden breeze, before settling on a delicate drawing of a boy and a shorter girl, sitting nonchalantly together on an old wooden bench in an old park somewhere. A scene of two people that simply were content in each others prescence.

It was only half-finished, as if the artist had been interrupted, or simply decided to discontinue.

The room was still.

oOo

"OOOooookay Family! Our extremely wowza, fantastical, super cool camping trip is almost over!!" Isshin screamed, as birds in the surrounding forests took flight, chattering in terror. Tears streaming down his face, he grabbed his two daughters into a bear-hug. "Oh, let us say goodbye to this oh so beautiful, glorious-"

"Shut up you old goat!" Karin snarled, knocking themselves loose from his grip with a well placed hook-kick to the chest. Ichigo was a short distance away, lying on his back in the cool blue grass and his arms resting behind his head. Ignoring the conflict going by, he took time to enjoy the thousands of stars, the near full moon, the evening breezes, the darkness... He breathed it in.

He was cut short when a jolt passed through his chest. Suprised, he passed a rouch hand over his torso, feeling. A growing uneasiness suddenly began to plague him. Unsure of the cause, he sat up, looked around. He couldn't see anyone, otherthen his oblivious family, but the feeling that suddenly plagued him, did not seem to come from his surroundings. _Danger..._

_A pair of unseen eyes watched the orange-haired teen, glanced once more over their familiar target before vanishing into the darkness._

"Ichigo!"

He turned towards the voice; his little sister stood beckoning, smiling. "Come have some dinner! Its curry!"

"Uh...kay." He replied. Stiffly, he got up, glanced around him then returned to the site. He soon forgot his previous feeling of being watched, but the tenseness in his stomach refused to leave...

oOo

Rukia alighted weightlessly upon the flickering streetlight, checking her phone again. She was getting close and it was huge; the dark riatsu meters were going off the scale. She rushed off again, heading straight for the darker side of town. Abandoned buildings coated in grafitti, broken and boarded up windows soon became common surroundings; she made a turn to the right.

It was an old decrepid playground, the equipment rusty and colors looking as if they were being leeched away by it's grey surroundings. In the diminishing evening light, the shadows became huge and distorted, dissapearing away from her. It had been a longwhile since children's laughter had been heard here.

She stood waiting calmly, the orange light of the sunset dying her hair in streaks. Another streetlight flickered to life, casting a dim light over the playground, barely illuminating her ominous surroundings. Years of experience made her senses grow in sharpness; she could practically smell the coming exchange of battle. It was rapidly becoming darker; the air was tense.

In an instant, she blocked the huge javelin-like tentacle that erupted behind her, leaping to the side and diverting the blow. A second one burst from the ground below her, lashing chunks of earth into the air. Shirayuki sliced easily through the first tentacle, it's white ribbon trailing from its hilt. A sudden forest of tentacles sprouted from the ground, all seeking to snag her limb. She dipped and flashed in and out between the writhing madness, slashing here and there in an attempt to drive the masked head of the hollow out into the open, waiting. She dived under the slide, sumersaulted, and quckly drew something in the air with her finger, did some quick handsigns before presenting her hand palm out. "Ye Lord! Mask of blood and flesh, all creation, flutter of wings, ye who bears the name of Man! Inferno and pandemonium, The sea barrier surges, March on to the south! Red Shot of Fire!" An orb of red energy materialized in her palm, crackling dangerously. She cast it before herself where it hit two of the larger tentacles and ignited them.

There was a deep scream from beneath in the ground, and the hollow fully emerged.

It was immense, indeed like some, distorted, dark green octopus, with the exception of the giant spike-like growths at the end of its quivering tentacles and the bloodthirsty hunger. Larger then the entire playground. It turned it's bloated masked face to her, it's eyes latching on to her as a horrible grin spread across it's features. _**"Well, well, a tasty shinigami. I havn't had one of you in a long while now." **_A huge, purplish tounge licked across it's boney teeth. She remained calm and still, bringing Shirayuki up to her side at shoulder-height, closed her eyes and breathed slowly, letting her riatsu flow up to her waiting hand naturally. _Like a river. Water. Calm. Cold-_

Countless number of tentacles writhed up from the ground, lashing the air. In an instant they shot toward her, a wave of writhing flesh. Her body, her reflexes screamed at her to move, to leap out of the way. She was calm.

Suddenly her eyes snapped open; the pressurised energy screamed into her blade.

"Tsugi no mai, Hakuren!"

A barrier of ice shot erupted around her shielding her, it's crystal plumes catching the streetlight and exloding with shimmering colors. A wave of ice flowed over the incoming tentacles, freezing them instantly, looking as if they were coated in glass. She flashed out into the bizzare-looking forest of tentacles around the icy shield, was racing straight toward the hollow's glimmering white face. Everything was going according to plan.

And then everything went terribly wrong.

Time slowed, seconds became a complete standstill. She was running towards the beast; she stepped up onto one of the hollow's crystalized limb; then she saw him, a little freckled faced boy with messy brown hair, a spirit watching from behind the jungle gym, his eyes wide. She turned her face and saw him, dumbstruck, the hollow followed her eyes; grinned maliciously. A single tentacle lunged towards the small boy, it's gruesome point aimed with deadly accuracy straight towards the little spirit's chest, her mind screamed at him to move, to run...

Rukia felt a searing pain in her shoulder as she intercepted the hit, scooping up the shocked boy in her arms. She gave a little gasp of pain as the spike drove deep into her flesh, flew backward and tucked her body around the boy, taking the blows repeatedly as she bounced against the concrete. She slammed into a brick wall; gasped and blood came with the sound, dribbled from the corner of her mouth down her chin. Quickly she regained her footing and groggily flash-stepped a short distance away, an abandoned alley across the street before collapsing to her knees in the filth. The little boy was silent with fright, his large eyes met her pain-filled dark ones. She slowly regained her footing, staggered, and set the boy on the ground. She felt light-headed and dizzy; as her vision blurred in and out of focus. She also felt sick to her stomach, and yet strangely detached from the events going on around her. As if she was watching from a distance. Shaking her head, she forced herself to focus, prepare for the young soul's Konso. She set her hand gently on his shoulder and brought Shirayuki up, hilt downward. The little boy suddenly gave a yelp of fear and drew away from her, his eyes filled with fear. Rukia's eyes became gentle and she lowered her sword. "Don't be afraid, young one. I'm not going to hurt you." A wave of nausea came over her and she squatted down in front of him, both to quellit and to seem less threatening.(Though that hardly was possible with her height.)

"My name is Rukia. What's your name?"

The little boy stepped hesitantly towards her, his large eyes(almost unproportional to his face,) calming. " Torao."

She smiled. "That's a nice name."

"Are you an angel?" the boy suddenly asked.

Her smile became sad and her eyes became distant. "No. Far from it. But don't worry," she added, noticing the fear in his eyes again. "I'm a shinigami. We help people like you to the 'other place'."

"..Will mommy be there?"

Rukia could sense the riatsu of the hollow growing angry as it continued to search the area; its distant, frustrated roars echoed eerily agains the cold walls around her. She would have to hurry. But her heart went out to the poor soul. "..I'm sure she will be."

"...Rukia?"

"Yes?"

"Will it hurt? Going to the other place? Is it a good place?"

"...It won't hurt at all. And yes, it is very peaceful."

"...Rukia?"

"Yes?"

"Will you visit me? I like you. You're like mommy."

She smiled down at him, her deep eyes sad and soft like velvet.

"...Of course... I promise. But you have to go now, I have to go take care of that bad monster."

"...Okay...I'm ready..."

Rukia got to her feet and patted his head gently. "...Be brave, little tiger." She set the base of the hilt against his forehead, his eyes still wide. Soon they became peaceful, then closed.

A lone hell butterfly flew out of the alleyway into the night sky.

Rukia watched it solemnly before returning her thoughts to her current situation, the transition from caring mother-figure to calculating warrior, instantaneous. She felt a little better from her temporary rest, but that strange pit of nausea in her stomach stayed. Outside, the hollow raged in the playground, crumpling the old equipment as if it were made of aluminum foil. It was obviously an abnormally strong one; she mentally cursed herself for miscalculating it's strength and giving it the upper hand. She wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth and began to think of a new plan of action.

Flashing back out into the open, she took the hollow by suprise. By now however, several of the limbs had thawed, though there flexibility was stiff and uncertain. She drew her blade before her, slashing through any obstacles, focused towards its face. It scowled at her and tried to wrap a few tentacles round her. One stray tentacle caught her ankle and dragged her up toward it's face. A dark grin of victory crossed it's face as it opened it's jaws, ready to swallow her whole...

The illusion evaporated, leaving the tentacle empty and a very confused looking hollow. _**"Wha-"**_

Shirayuki easily penetrated the grotesque mask, burrowing through the flesh behind as she suddenly flashed to the side, grabbing ahold of the top of the hideous white mask and thrusting her blade deep through where the nose would have been. The hollow screeched a final death scream and thrashed about sending a splash of black blood across her features; she went flying off and hit the pavement, skidding backward, but on her feet. The hollow shrunk in on itself like a insect drying up from the inside and lay still, it's inhuman howl still ringing in her ears. Very slowly, it ebbed away, the particles of energy drifting away into the wind.

The street was silent again.

She fell to her knees and flopped onto her back, breathing hard. The bleeding in her right shoulder had finally oozed to a slow trickle, but continued to send searing pain through her entire torso whenever she tried to breathe. It was deep. Her whole body was racked with pain, and the strange nausea in her stomach had spread outward in the previous fevor. She flipped onto her front and tried to stand again, but threw up, coughing horribly. She struggled weakly to get to a sitting position, wiped her mouth on her sleeve and using Shirayuki, to stand. She even managed to take a few wobbling steps before she fell flat on her face again.

Her eyes grew dull, before closing completely, and darkness mercifully overtook her.

oOo

Rukia's eyes snapped open, and her first thought was of how viciously thirsty she was and how her whole body was screaming in agony and heat. The sun blazed uncaringly above her, baking the concrete beneath her and her skin. An image drifted to mind; herself, sitting in a giant frying pan, lightly sauteed with lemon. She would have laughed, had she not felt like she was going to throw up again.

Around her the sounds of the daylight activity bustled around her. (Being in shinagmai stage of course, no one could see her.) She sat up only to regret it immediately as pain echoed sharply from her wound and yet another wave of sickness came over her. How long she had been unconcious she didn't know, but she staggered to her feet. If today was the day after yesterday, Ichigo and his family would be coming home this evening. She had to get back before they dicovered her lifeless gigai. In a deep place in her heart she futiley wished as well that he (Ichigo, of course,) would be late so she could take her time getting back before he knew what had happened, but quickly dismissed the thought. She had to get there, today. Using a little Kidou, she patched herself up well enough the to walk the distance back to his house, though the nausea refused to leave, continued to smash into her every nerve. Using Shiryuki like a cane, she slowly crept the first step and began her painful journey.

oOo

It seemed like an eternity, but she was finally around Ichigo's district again. It was odd, walking as shinigami. She was invisible to the life bustling all around her as it continued on, oblivious to her beaten prescence. Her whole body was burning now, and she limped like an old beggar down the street, leaning aginst a wall now and then for support. Sweat dripped down her face in the unbearable heat of the late afternoon. Never, in her entire life, never had she felt so tired, so thirsty, or so sick.

Just when she felt she would lose conciousness again as the tell-tale tremor swept painfully through her with a vengeance, she rounded the bend and nearly cried in releif as the clinic came in view. She stumbled her way to the entrance and using the last of her strength, leaped in through Ichigo's still open window. She collapsed instantly onto his bed with a few coughs, nearly blacking out again; just lay still, feeling the blazing pain inside her body slowly diminish to a dull, searing ache; slid off the sheets, coming face to face with herself, the lifeless gigai. She looked away.

Breathing hard, she lay limply on his floor, exhausted beyond thought. The familiar room flew in and out of focus, spinning out of control, and her pulse fluttered wildly about. But she was releived. She had made it before he had gotten home. The promise. Unable to move, she fell into an uneasy sleep, strange, twisted images accompanying her retreat into the feverish darkness. Her last thought was how she was disappointed she was so weak, could not stay awake. A warrior's pride. She had a promise to keep. But she would just close her eyes. Just for a minute, just to rest.

Just a minute.

Outside, the sun slowly sank past the rooftops, dying the world in orange.

A sketchbook lay forgotten on the desk.

A woman lay still upon the floor.

And a good distance away, speculating eyes gazed up at the setting sky.

oOo

So anyway...how was it? Not too horrible I hope.

Yeah. Rukia can draw. I had this idea floating around for awhile; it just seemed suiting. The sketchbook will play a part in the story. As well as the introduction of my first OC; (Torao, motif being my baby cousin) he will show up later on. Next chapter will be posted this evening, hopefully if all goes as planned.

Reviews and critique are welcome. Pointless flames will be ignored.

Oh yeah. It's not a one shot.

-Rayne


	2. Poison and Glass

Being a writer was harder then I thought.

It seems just when I want to get intrested in something, I get hit with a ton of work. Chapter 3 might take some time in coming, as I have midterm exams coming up.

Thank you for the criticism earlier. I have found a reader to look over it before I post. also I wanted to adress the fact of some randow email I received reading somewhere along the lines of "OMG!!111!!1!? rukia can DRAW?!1111one". Yes. she can. and you will see more later on.

So far, our story has started on a grim note. Just what will happen?

Ugh. I am no good at announcing whatsoever.

Read on.

oOo

"Ichigo!"

Snapping out of his musings, the handsome eighteen year-old turned to his younger sister. "What is it, Karin?"

Glowering, the dark-haired girl huffed once then settled back into her seat. "You havn't been focused at all today! All you do is drift off into your own head!"

Scowling, the teen with hair matching the brilliant fiery orange sunset outside turned back to look out the window. They had been driving a good two and a half hours, His father Isshin in the front seat, and Yuzu beside him as they both shrilly sang along with some stupid song on the radio. Karin had given up on trying to talk to him, sulking. His lanky form was cramped in the backseat, especially with all the camping gear threatening to explode from the trunk and the cooler crushing his legs.

The family campout had been (though he was reluctant to admit it,) a fun experience, with the exception of his dad; One, the fact that his father, in his attempt to cook dinner had nearly set the surrounding woods ablaze, (Luckily, Karin had thought to bring a fire extinguisher) and that he had left Rukia back in town. It was impossible of course, for her to leave; a shinigami would be needed for the daily activities and she had insisted that they go on without her.But out here away from the city, the beautiful mountains, the elderly woods were simply put, breath-taking. He had spent hours wandering among the weathered trunks, gliding a calloused hand over the gnarled bark and leaving his mind free to wander. He had also found a field of vibrant purple flowers and had pressed a few in his copy of "Romeo and Juliet" as a memoir, "girly"as the action was. (He had made sure no one was in sight.)

After a few days of enjoying the scenery and other activities with his family, the evening previously however, he began to feel uneasy. Something was wrong his gut told him, and he instantly his thoughts turned to the midget of a shinigami he had left at home. He tried to rationalize with himself that she was fine. Rukia, as much as he teased her, and secretly wished to always be there to protect her, was perfectly capable of handling things herself.

Nonetheless, the end of the vacation in the wilderness couldn't come soon enough, and he subconciously packed as fast as he could. Now as they returned back, it seemed as if the car was going impossibly slow. Gritting his teeth in agitation, he forced himself to look back out the window, trying to push down the tension bubbling in his stomach and the "what-if" thoughts in his mind.

The feeling grew worse with every minute ticking past and he ruffled his flame-orange hair agitatedly. Totally irrational. She was fine. She had promised, didn't she? She was okay. She had to be.

Groaning, he leaned back into his seat. If only the damned car would go faster.

If only he could convince himself otherwise.

oOo

The world was pain.

Who was she again?

Oh right. The Kuchiki. Kuchiki Rukia.

Refusing to open her eyes, she instead curled up into a fetal position with a groan, feeling her erratic heartbeat slam around her ribcage. Every bone, muscle, every fiber of her being, was on _fire._ This was insane. All from a single wound? Infected maybe? Even so, deep as it was, infected as it might be, it should not feel this way. Should it? Agony. She couldn't remember. She couldn't think things out straight. The thoughts slipped out of her grasp like water in cupped hands.

Something was bothering her. Her wound. The spike-like appendage that had torn into her shoulder. What was that? Oh yes. A hollow. She had been attacked by a hollow and beaten it barely. And a little boy. Torao? Yes, his name. Keep those thoughts simple, Rukia Kuchiki. Simple. It was a routine hollow. It should have been nothing. Nothing.

A promise.

Though her body screamed at her for breathing, for any motion whatsoever, she forced her upper torso up, weakly as if attempting a sloppy push-up. From there, she blinked, opened her eyes and found it was dark. Dark? It was still day. She should be able to see...

No, correction. It was night. The moonlight pouring in through Ichigo's open window told her so. How long had she been unconcious for? At least two hours, maybe four. A dim thought flitted about madly, like a pesky moth. Oh. Her promise. She could not break her promise to Ichigo.

Ichigo.

He would be home soon. She had to move, had to hide it, had to.. had to...

She gasped as she finally staggered to her feet, swayed, then collapsed against the wall, coughing with the harsh contact. A coppery taste in her throat; something warm and wet dribbling down her chin, her neck, down to her collar. Warm. She wiped her mouth and when she brought it to where her eyes could see, she was suprised to see red run slowly down her trembling fingers, her wrist, staining the white hem of her sleeve. Blood? Why blood?

Something. Something bothering her, something about the hollow. Why?

It flashed before her eyes, the moment, slow; she had intercepted the hit, but for a moment she could see it. Yes. The spike. A sickly yellow, long as her arm. It was slightly curved, a tiny hole in its tip. Hollow. Like a snake's fang. Yes, just like it. A giant snake's fang, and when it had started to pierce the cloth the tip had glistened like it was moist.A sickly yellow-green fluid. Why? A snake fang...

She was halfway to the bathroom in her daze when she stumbled and fell again. She felt like an old woman, devoid of all strength, endurance. Standing again; how was she standing? The carpeted hall floor seemed too far away, falling in and out of focus. The bathroom door. She opened it and closed it securely behind her. Leaning, there was the porcelain sink. She turned it on and blessed cold water flooded over her feverish skin. Her face. Chapped Lips. She drank, drowning the acrid taste in her mouth, washing the blood from her face, moistening a spare washcloth. She turned it off, the sweat, her dripping hair clinging to her face, skin was cold. And hot. But a little strength left, returning with the liquid refreshment. So weak. Pitifully, and she was angry, angry at herself.

Sitting on the floor with a thump, she rolled her robe open, exposing her shoulder, seperating where the cloth stuck to the penetrated area with delicate care. Raw, deep, oozing a little blood from the pink veined gash as she brushed the washcloth against it and nearly passed out again. Then she heard it. A voice.

Ichigo?

Voices. She could here someone's voice. Calling her. She crawled blindly toward it, fell. The white tile floor. Cold. The smell of sickeningly sweet chemicals.

Her body convulsed and she coughed. Blood dripping back down from the corner of her mouth and the acrid bitter taste. Red on white, blurring in and out of focus madly.

A snake's fang...

She forced her head to look towards the closed bathroom door so distant, reached out a hand towards the sound, and now she heard other voices, a woman's voice that echoed inside her numb head, screaming,"_Rukia! Rukia_!" Sudden panic, depseration, she lunged for the fading door, blacked out.

Her unconcious body slammed into the sink counter; A glass, holding the family toothbrushes, just a little too close to the edge that morning, jostled, teetered for a moment, then fell, smashing into a billion tiny pieces on the floor. Tiny shards scattered over the blank tiles, over the outstretched arm, and the downcast head, glimmering among the strands of black hair...

oOo

_"-so we'll be gone for a few days."_

_He wet his lips, wondering if he should ask her, if she wanted to come. Instead they both fell into a akward silence, he standing at the door, and she sitting on his bed, enjoying the cool afternoon breeze. She shuffled her feet in thought, gazing out the window before looking back at him, as if reading his thoughts. "Somebody has to stay behind to watch the town. I doubt afro-boy could handle it."_( AN: She means Zennosuke Kurumadani, by the way.)_ She turned back to him, a smile warming her facade. "I'll stay. Go have fun with your family! Don't worry about-"_

_"Baka! I wasn't worried about you." he blurted._

_She blinked at him suprisedly. "I meant don't worry about Karakura. I can handle it."_

_The woman looked down her nose haughtily with the last statement._

_Ah yes, the infamous "Kuchiki Warrior-Pride Glare"._

_Rolling his eyes, he pushed the conversation on, hoping to cover his preivous slip up. "Anyways, there's food in the fridge and the cupboards, don't talk to strangers, and don't let anybody else in the house. Don't cause any fires." _

_He was only half joking. Once before, Rukia had attempted to prepare a dinnner of ramen, in a rare token of gratitude. Without reading the instructions, she had placed the plastic package directly on the stove burner and turned it on; all of which resulted in a raging fire that destroyed their stove, and Ichigo nearly getting a face full of extinguisher fumes. _

_"If you have any trouble,well, my cell number's on the counter, and here's a twenty in case of an emergency." He fished the bill out of his jean pocket and placed it on the desktop._

_The woman smirked ferally. "You sound like a mother hen."_

_He glowered at her before ruffling his hair again in agitation, looking away. "Just promise you won't do anything reckless or stupid, alright?"_

_Knowing the implications behind this, they fell again into a silence, her face melting into a real, heart-felt smile, and a strange burning sensation flushed red along the back of his neck. He refused to look in her direction._

_Without warning, she chucked a pillow at him, catching him in the face. _

_"Baka! I'm always careful! You're the stupid reckless one!" she snarled. _

_Growling, he tossed the pillow back. "Who you calling stupid, midget!?"_

_"You, you immature brat!"_

_"Don't call me a brat, witch!"_

_"I'll call you anything I want!"_

_And so, they fell back into their old routine, he hoping the moment that had just occured would slip past. After a few minutes in which his room was in shambles and they panted from the sudden excersion of their quarrel, she finally crossed her arms across her chest, dark eyes sparkling. "Don't worry. I promise. But..." Her eyes suddenly became ominous, and the impish grin dissapeared._

_"...Who's going to take Kon?"_

oOo

He had lost the argument of course. She had pressed that since she was the one on duty, she would have no time to take care of Kon (Ha!) and needed something less conspicous then a stuffed lion to carry around, that being his soul badge.

Said stuffed lion was buried deep within Ichigo's backpack, bound tightly with a spare shoelace and numerous layers of ducktape plastered over his mouth. Being a mod-soul in a stuffed animal, he didn't need any air...he hoped. Vaguely.

Finally, the Karakura district came into view, the surroundings becoming more familiar as they conitued into the heart of the town. As well as the tension heavy in his stomach; like a pacing tiger he shifted in his seat, ruffled his hair, and drummed his fingers along the door handle. By now he had deduced he was totally insane, irrational, yet needed to be **sure.**

After a few more minutes of impossibly slow driving, Isshin crowed in exuberance. "There she is! Home sweet clinic!" Scarcely had the car stopped in the driveway, Ichigo quickly opened the door and ran up to the front door, ignoring his sisters cries. He turned the key in the lock (already in hand) wrenched open the door none too gently, calling.

"Rukia?"

There was no reply.

A small involuntary chill went up his spine, the tension in his stomach increasing ten-fold and he quickly scowered the lower floors, calling for the girl, waiting for her to spring from some closet, waiting for her to do something childish, then laugh...

"Rukia! Answer me, Dammit!"

Nothing.

He hurried up the stairs, seeing the door to his bedroom slightly ajar. "Oy, Rukia-!"

Her body lay lifeless on the floor.

His heart nearly stopped.

_No you idiot, _he quickly realized. _That isn't Rukia. That's just her gigai. _He started to breathe again, unaware that he had stopped.

Maybe she had gone out. Maybe she was out fighting a hollow. Or just out. Yes, that had to be it. He looked over at the desk to see if she had left a note, saying where she had gone. Nothing. Except...

Curiously, he approached the desk, was just about to touch the opened sketchbook, when a resounding crash of shattering glass resonated from the bathroom. He jerked at the noise and immediately charged out the door, down the hall, skidded to a halt and flung open the bathroom door-

oOo

This time his heart really did stop.

_This can't be happening,_ was his first thought. _This can't be happening._

After that, thought was impossible.

_No. No. No._

He coud not move. He could not think. Because it was impossible. This was impossible. She could not be lying there, facedown and motionless, a small puddle of red forming around her head. She had to be fine. He would walk into the house, and she would greet him with that small sad smile, or that stupid grin, and she would be fine. He stood still, waiting to wake up. _Nightmare..._

_Blur_

But no one woke him up. Rukia was still lying there, the remnants of the toothbrush holder scattered like clear snow around in front of her, the pale outstretched arm, the delicate fingers...

_DON'T JUST STAND THERE, YOU COMPLETE AND UTTER MORON!_

Something inside him snapped.

"Rukia!"

He crouched down beside her, brushed the glass fragments roughly away with his hand. One particular piece sliced deep into his hand, but he could hardly feel it. Instead he rolled her onto her back and the view was even worse; her exposed white shoulder, a deep, nasty looking wound blood dripped down from her forehead, the corners of her lips. But none of that struck him like her eyes. Still half-opened, lidded. Dull. Vacant.

Dead.

He froze.

Dead.

_No._

_Oh God. No. No. NO._

Something in his head was screaming, yelling, screaming. But he felt nothing, numb, as if he was watching a movie without sound.

"Oh my God..."

_NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO_

As if the words would make it go away. A mantra.

Then he noticed the heavy rise and fall of her chest and so many turbulent emotions hit him at once he was swept away. But releif. She was alive. Alive.

Oh God.

He cradled her head, patting her cheek for a response, calling her.

"Rukia. Come on. Come on. Wake up. Please. Please..."

Suddenly she gasped, a choking noise, coughed, and a small red spray coated his trembling fingers. Her eyes swerved in and out, finally focusing on his face to his molten gaze. A tiny glimmer of recognition. Then she suddenly closed her eyes again, with a weary sigh. Panicking, he shook her none-to-gently. "Rukia! Rukia! Stay awake! Come on!" She blearily opened her eyes again. Murmered something so faint he could not make it out. Before he could not think. Now, his thoughts rushed, swirled sround his mind, urgencies, signals, instincts, raging...

_Take care of that wound first._

He took a breath to calm himself. He was wasting precious time.

He laid her gently back down upon the rug. "Hold on...Ill be right back..." Quickly he scooted over to the closet, taking a towel and a bottle of rubbing alchohol.

His hands, usually so dextrous from swordplay, fumbled, splashing the liquid all over the wound. Rukia cried out, a gasping shrill sound. He hissed as well, pained. "Crap. God. I'm sorry..." he wrapped the wound as well as he could with the spare towel, blushing slightly despite himself from her exposed chest, though covered by a wrap. After he had tugged her gi back on, he sat for a moment, forcing himself to stay calm. For the moment, he had done what he could, but it was not enough.

This was not good. She was hurt bad. She needed real medical help.

Isshin? No. Someone, someone...

Urahara.

Without a second thought, he lifted her, bits of glass falling from her hair with a gentle _clink_ against the hard floor. Dashing out of the bathroom back to his room.

Her gigai still lay still on the floor, the soul badge clasped in its hand. Laying her down for a moment on his bed, he snatched the skull-marked object from it's hand and pressed it against his chest. He turned to see his own body flop down alongside Rukia's gigai.

Gently, he picked her up bridal style; her head flopped limply against his chest, and he could feel her warm shallow breaths through the cloth. Murmering a apology for the rough journey ahead, he leapt out the open window, racing towards the Urahara shop, two words repeating endlessly through his skull.

_Hold on._

_Hold on._

oOo

Isshin Kurosaki stared down at his "son" and his "third daughter", seemingly passed out on the floor. The whole room felt tense; he could smell blood, had seen it on the bathroom floor and the stain upon Ichigo's bed. It was bad.

There was no trace of the "idiotic-father", rather the opposite; older, maturer. He hurried back to the bathroom, wiping up the glass and blood with a spare towel. It was only a matter of time before his two unsuspecting daughters finished unloading the rest of the gear into the garage; Namely, he would have to worry about Karin, who would be able to see both the shinigami and gigai blood stains. Just in time; he heard his two other children enter downstairs, calling. Putting back his "goofy" persona, he returned to the lower section.

"Hey dad. Where's Rukia?" Karin asked, sitting at the kitchen table with a sigh.

"Oooh my beautiful daughter! Rukia-nee san is not feeling well. She's asked to sleep in your brother's room."

"Really? should I make her some soup-?" Yuzu asked, concerned.

"No, my affecionate, dear daughter. She does not need to be disturbed right now."

"But why does she want to sleep in Ichigo's room?" Karin's voice dripped with suspicion.

Uh oh, Isshin. Think of something. Fast.

"Well you see... Rukia-nee is soooo considerate, that she didn't want you, my sweet beautiful daughters to catch whatever it is she's got!"

"Then what about Ichigo?"

"Oh. Well, who cares about him?"

"So where's Ichigo?"

"I sent him out to get some medicine."

"But dad, we live in a clinic-"

"We were out of stock! Now, who wants a WELCOME-HOME DINNER!?"

"...Dad..."

oOo

And there it is, chapter two. Can't say I'm displeased with it.

This fic will be a mixture of somber moments, some laughs, some romance, action, and all of the above. Again, I'm just letting the story take me wherever its going...

Please review if you enjoyed it even slightly. If you have ideas, critique, or compliments, all are welcome.

-Rayne


	3. By Orange Glow of a Lantern

In a worry that My author's notes may be inteferring with the flow of the story, I will be writing less and less in the above. However, I am initiating two new policies; one, if you review, I will send you a private reply as a writer's courtesy. And two, since I have to study, I will not be able to post as often as I would like.

Well, here is chapter three. I hope you enjoy it!

oOo

The rest of the evening was a blur.

Ichigo had finally reached Urahara's shop in what felt-like a few hours, though it was probably just a few minutes. He remembered Ururu, the little girl, just preparing to close the doors. Hat and clogs. Someone tried to take the unconcious form from his arms. He refusing to let go in his daze. Someone, gently easing her away from him, a soothing voice. Like a lost little child, someone guiding him into the main room where all the merchandise stood in maze-like rows. He watched as Urahara hurriedly took her into another room. He didn't remember explaining, but then again, maybe he had; still in a state of disbeleving shock, everythings seemed like a numb dream. Someone talking to him, as they sat side by side in the near darkness for countless ages, pale shadows dancing across the floor from a single lit candle, placed between them. A strange cold spreading over him like a fog.

Then a smooth _shwish_ and a rectangle of yellow light swept into the dark hall as the door to the room they had taken her opened. Someone tugging on his shoulder.

And now here he was.

The room was dim, lit by the light coming in through the open window. He could just see the twinkling stars on the ebony background. A rectangle paper-lantern in one corner, casting a flickering orange over the soft rise and fall of the thick woolen blanket tucked over her.

Rukia seemed impossibly frail and small, her body almost disappearing in the folds of cloth. He could see every minute detail with startiling clarity; her shallow breaths, her eyes roving uneasily beneath their lids, the perspiration dotting her exposed face. A cold white towel pressed against her forhead, strands of dark hair clinging to her damp skin. She would writhe and moan every once in a while, murmering words under her breath, then suddenly shudder and lay still. Each time this happened, his stomach clenched uneasily until he saw she was still breathing.

He heard a rustle as the fusama door behind him opened, the tell-tale clack of the wooden clogs alerting him immediately. With a grunt, Urahara sat beside him, fanning himself indiscreetly. Ichigo did not acknowledge his prescence, waiting for the older shinigami to make the first move.

"What a night, eh Kurosaki-san?"

He did not answer.

A tense silence fell. Finally, Urahara sighed and set his fan on the mat, leaning over and removing the lukewarm towel. He plunked down two basins seemingly out of nowhere, wringing the cloth dry in one and dipping it in the frigid contents of the other before returning it to it's place on Rukia's brow. Patting her shoulder lightly, he placed the two containers a little ways above her head, before turning to the silent teen beside him.

"So? You wanna know what happened?"

Ichigo made no movement save for a swallow, his adam's apple bobbing. Taking this as a sign he was listening, Urahara began.

"Well, the wound was definitely made by a hollow. Probably been around for awhile. It sure gave Kuchiki-san here some trouble." He scratched his chin thoughtfully. "I've patched her up as well as I could, but it's not going to be enough-"

"What do you mean?" Ichigo suddenly interrupted, turning. His molten gaze was burning with concern and self-anger.

"Whatever she was attacked with injected her with some sort of weird venom I've never seen before. I've taken a sample of it but for now..." Urahara trailed off.

"We could call Soifon." A new voice spoke.

Urahara turned towards the still open door. "Ah, Hello Yourichi-san! Didn't hear you come in."

The black cat padded in, closing the door behind it with a paw before sitting on Ichigo's left. The yellow eyes glowed eerily from the orange light of the lantern, glancing over at the two men.

"Soifon could use Suzumebachi to try and create an antivenom. Or we could call Inoue-san." she continued, tail twitching lazily. Urahara nodded in agreement. "Let's see if Inoue-san can, first. She's closer."

"Fine. I'll go get her then." Suddenly she vanished from sight, like a shadow. The blond shinigami began fanning himself again, standing up with a grunt. "And you, Kurosaki-san. You should go home-"

"No." The answer was curt and cold.

"Now now, I know you're worried, but there's no sense in you staying here. I'm sure your family is worried sick about you."

Ichigo's stomach twisted, with the want to stay by Rukia's side to the want to check on his family. They would be frantic by now, especially if they had discovered Rukia's and his own gigais, seemingly unconcious on the floor. How would he explain that? The pool of blood in the bathroom? He groaned in his mind for being so careless.

Seeing him shuffle his worried thoughts, Urahara decide to press his advantage. "Knowing you, you probably left without leaving an alibi, didn't you." The lack of any denial confirmed his suspicions. "So hurry back before you expose everything, ne? Don't worry, I'll take good care of Kuchiki-san-"

"I'm waiting till Inoue gets here."

The older man sighed, ruffling his hat. "Stubborn. Fine, fine. But you have to go afterwards, alright?"

"...Fine."

oOo

Yourichi soon returned, a worried and breathless Orihime by her side. The buxom girl hurriedly greeted the group of people before rushing away to the room.

Yet another period of toturous waiting followed as Ichigo silently sat guard, just outside the fusama door watching the silloheute of Orihime's bent over shadow play across the floor and the opposite wall. Tessai and Jinta had dissapeared into the back room, but the little dark-haired Ururu watched meekly from the corner of the hall.

"...K-Kurosaki-san?"

Snapping from his brooding he looked toward her. "What is it, Ururu?"

"...U-um, would you like anything...?"

He smiled at her, a very small, rare smile. "Nah. I'm fine. But thanks."

"O-okay..."

"Listen, Ururu. Why don't you go sleep?"

"But...Kuchiki-san..."

He mentally cringed, hearing the worry in her voice. It unitentionally increased his own, but nonetheless, he kept a vigilant facade.

"Don't worry. I'm sure she'll be fine."

It was so difficult for him to keep his voice from cracking.

"It's late. Just get some sleep, okay?"

"Okay...Goodnight..."

"Goodnight."

She dissapeared, leaving him back to his silent thoughts. He tried to shut them out, but it kept returning, that somehow, this was all his fault. If only he hadn't left her. If only he had come home sooner. If only-

Sighing, he leaned his head back; it landed with a _thunk_ against the wood siding. Inside the closed room, he could only hear an occasional rustling, muted words, then nothing.

Finally the door opened, and he looked up, was startled to see that she was crying. Tears brimmed down from the corners of her eyes as she hastily tried to sweep them away.

"Inoue...?"

Suddenly she looked away, her arms wrapped around her mid-section, clutching tightly. The light from the room made her lashes sparkle with tears as she feverously murmered something with each sobbing breath.

"...Useless...I'm...so useless..."

Ichigo was standing now, unsure of how to comfort her. She shook her head fiercely, hunching over then looking up to meet his worried gaze, her large doe-like eyes burning with an intense pain. "...I c-can't...I can't...help her..." She whispered the last two words as if choking. Urahara suddenly appeared, patting the innocent-minded girl on the shoulder. "Now, now Inoue-san. It's not your fault. You did your best." His voice was gentle, but he was thinking hard. Inoue, of all people, should be able to help Rukia. Her Shun Shun Rikka should have easily healed the wound, with it's ability to reverse time. It should of worked. Why hadn't it? Something was very wrong... He hurried past her and went in to inspect Rukia, shutting the door behind him and leaving the two amber haired teenagers in the hall.

"The wounds are healed, but..." She murmered, gazing at the floor. Calmer now, she swept the last of her tears away, but her voice trembled on the edge of breaking. "...She's not any better. She won't wake up...I tried...I'm sorry..."

Inoue refused to look up, terrified that everyone was upset, angry at herself for being unable to help yet again, and worried for her friend. A tense silence fell as she waited for him to yell or quietly speak his anger; half of her wanted it, anything to quell the feelings of her inadequecy.

"Orihime."

Ichigo's voice passed over her like a warm ray of sun, and catiously, she raised her eyes. His face and eyes were uncharachteristicly gentle, the fierce, molten gaze warm. He stepped forward and gently placed his hands on her shoulders, gripping them firmly. "Listen. This is not your fault, okay? You did your best. Thank you for trying." he released them, forcing a confidence he did not feel into his voice. "I'm sure Urahara will be able to whip up something. Or Soifon could do something-"

"Speaking of which," Yourichi spoke, appearing from the shadows and startling them both. "I'm sending for her right now. So why don't you kids go home and try to get some sleep, okay?" The cat lazily cleaned "his" whiskers.

Orihime shook her head. "If it's alright...I'd like to spend the night here..."

The cat sighed. "Okay. Just as long as you can excuse your abscence, alright?"

The girl nodded eagerly. Suddenly, Ichigo's heart sank. As much as he wanted to stay, he did not have an alibi. As if on que,Urhara reappeared at the door,fanning himself. "Ah, Kurosaki-san. You-?"

"...I'll be back in the morning." Ichigo growled. "Just..."

Understanding, Urahara moved out of the doorway, gesturing inside to where Rukia lay. Ichigo entered, closing the door behind him again. Yourichi had already vanished, leaving Urahara and Inou alone for the moment. Quietly, he gestured for her to follow him; once they were out of earshot, he whispered in her ear. "Inoue-san, may I speak to you for a minute...?" Soon afterwards, the pair dissapeared into his office.

oOo

Rukia seemed at least a little bit improved from Inoue's efforts. Her face was uncontorted, and the ugly gash was gone. But she still trembled as if from an unfelt draft, and her skin was still slick with sweat. She grimaced, and shifted slightly, before her face relaxed again.

He felt sick. Guilt churned his insides like a meat grinder. He reached out, hesitated, then took the towel off her forhead, following the process as Urahara had did before placing the refreshed towel back on her forehead. He swallowed nervously, never being so close like this before.

"...Hey."

It came out as a rugged croak; he cleared his throat and tried again, stronger, but the sound just a whisper in the quiet.

"Hey."

As if waiting for her to answer, he paused, swallowing hard. The silence festered, and he tried again.

"Hey, Rukia."

And suddenly he heard it. A word that rode on the soft _whoosh _of her exhale. The pretense of a sound.

"...Ichi...go..."

His eyes widened, and he gripped her shoulder. Encouraged by it, he tried again.

"Rukia, can you hear me?"

He saw the corners of her lips twitch slightly in a smile.

"...Ichigo..."

Then the sound faded away, and with it her face muscles relaxed as she dissapeared back into her unconciousness. He shook her a little harder then intended, his voice rising slightly.

"Rukia? Come on, wake up...come on..."

He waited, but there was no answer, save for her shallow breaths. Finally, he released her and sat back. A wave of raging emotion suddenly rose in him. Anger, sorrow, exhaustion, helplessness... this was something bankai could not fix. Usually, there was a physical enemy. Someone, or something he could take out his raging testerone frustration on. But this time there was nothing he could take out his fury on. Nothing but himself.

He slammed a fist down into the mat and swore heavily. After a few minutes of his verbal beating, he sat still, clutching his hair and resting his elbows on his knees, steadying his breaths.

There was a knock at the door, a pause, and then Urahara rentered. Ichigo stood up, his face downcast and unreadable. He stepped out akwardly and stiff, paused in the doorway beside Urahara, raising his head again.

"...I'll be back in the morning."

Urahara stared ahead, listened to the boy's footsteps fade away, the clack of the front door opening and shut, then silence.

oOo


	4. The Plan and Paranoia

oOo

Ichigo lay on his back staring at the blankness of his bedroom ceiling, waiting for the morning that was coming impossibly slow.

Earlier, when he had returned home, he found his two sisters asleep and a very "upset" (In his strange, idiotic way,) Isshin, who promptly tackled him and tried to restrain his son's arms behind his back. Not in the mood for horseplay, Ichigo quickly dispatched his father. He was releived to find that his family had not gone into his room and discover the "scene"; tired, they had unpacked their stuff and immediately gone to bed. When his father asked about the blood in the bathroom, Ichigo quickly made up a story about breaking the glass holder and cutting his hand. He offered the bandaged appendage as proof (thanking God that he hadn't asked Orihime to heal it earlier,) then cut off any further questions with a "hn" and "Rukia's sleeping over at Orihime's house."-

Restless, he got up from where he lay, began to pace, and thought over his alibi; the bloodstained covers were tucked hastily away under his bed, and Rukia's gigai rested in the closet.

As he had put that motionless body he felt a icy tremor shoot up his spine; like he was putting her away in a tomb. He shook his head of the thought, but the pretense of it lurked in the dark recesses, just below his consciousness.

As he made another pass across the room, ruffling his hair agitatedly, he suddenly caught sight of the opened book on the desk. He thought back to when he had first entered the room; the events that had occurred made the peace he had felt from his trip to the country feel like it had happened years ago. Surreal.

He approached yet again, reaching out-

There was a terrific ripping sound, and something hit him in the back of the head like a rocket; he lost his balance and fell forward, nearly slamming face-first into the wall. Tense, he turned to confront the attacker-

-And came face to face with a furious stuffed lion. Kon, still bound and gagged, thrashed violently about, attempting to free himself. Ichigo's bag, already filled to the bursting point had exploded apart with the plushie's furious movements, sending said annoying stuffed furball soaring.

Ichigo seized the struggling Kon, ripping off the binds and gag before tossing him on his bed.

Immediately, the stuffed animal leaped up attached itself to Ichigo's scowling face.

"YOU BASTARD!" Kon shrieked. "LEAVING ME TO SUFFOCATE TO DEATH! HAVE YOU NO-" he was intterrupted as Ichigo clasped a hand over his mouth. "Pipe down. You'll wake up my sisters."

Suddenly Kon looked around quizically. "Hey, where is nee-san..."

Ichigo promptly pried him off his face and threw him to the floor, with much greater force then previously. The orange-haired teen then flopped face-first onto the bed, lying motionless. Sensing the gravity of the situation, Kon approached catiously. "Ichigo...?"

"She's at Urahara."

"Why is she-"

"Kon." Ichigo suddenly sat up; a brilliant idea/plan was sprouting in his head. With the speed of a striking viper, he seized the plushie in one hand. Fearing for his life at this sudden violent reaction, Kon began to struggle again to no avail; the teen squeezed till Kon's eyes were bulging, the pressure popping the small soul candy out, which he in turn then popped in his. Kon/Ichigo fell on his butt; Ichigo/Shinigami was busy digging furiously through his dresser. Finally, as he swept a pair of rocket patterned boxers out of the way he found what he was looking for; a small chappy shaped object that could have easily been mistaken for a Pez(r) dispenser.

Sighing and suddenly weary, Ichigo turned to where "Kon" still sat on the floor, his wide eyes showing the question _Has he lost his freakin' mind?!;_ easy to interpret.

"Now listen you fuzzball, and listen well." Ichigo growled. "Rukia's hurt. I'm gonna go over to Urahara's and I don't know when I'll be back, you understand? I need you to act like me till then. Put Pyon," he tossed the chappy dispenser into his lap, "In Rukia's gigai, okay? Her story is that she's coming back from a sleepover at Orihime's house. And if you do anything to ruin my reputation, so help me..."

With his final threat hanging in the air, he turned to the open window and put one foot out on the sill, preparing to leap out into the night.

"Wait."

"Kon" stood. It was weird for Ichigo, watching his body stand up and talk to him. But the eyes staring back at him were someone else's; like him, yet unlike him, serious, concerned, and much less cold.

"You said Rukia's hurt."

Ichigo vaguely noticed that Kon had dropped the "nee-san".

"...What happened?"

The shinigami turned back to the window bracing himself, looking up before his gaze fell. A pause.

"I don't know."

Then he was gone.

Kon stood clutching the dispenser, concerned. Finally he turned to the closet, preparing to begin the charade for Ichigo's family for the unspecified amount of time. Ichigo's vague "answer" did nothing to quell his own worry, but he would have to trust that he could handle it.

Not that he wouldn't go check it out himself once he got the chance.

oOo

Ichigo ran, flashing lightly from rooftop to rooftop. The cool evening air whooshed past his face; it felt good as it wove through his hair.

When he had first "test-drived" his new Shinigami capabilities, one of the things (Beside wielding a huge-ass sword that he could talk to, being able to skid on thin air, and the like,) that had impressed upon him the most was the speed at which he could travel. It was as if he had never been able to use his legs his entire life, and suddenly, he could fly. Like a superhero little kids wished they could be.

His fulfillment from this skill also helped him realize how Rukia must have felt. He hadn't thought much about it before then; He had always been there to be her legs. But she was independent, a warrior as much as she was immature and clueless at times. How it must have felt to always need someone to protect you, to not be able to defend yourself, much less people you cared about. It would be maddening, especially so if you could do it before, and then not knowing if your ability to would return or not.

And it had all disappeared in a single night when she trusted; she had nearly gotten herself killed in order to protect an idiot kid who was trying to protect _his_ family when he himself had nothing, no power, only the ambition.

Him.

He had taken it all; on accident of course, but she trusted him, someone she barely knew. It awoke what had been sleeping inside him all along, power he had wanted and it was right there, _right there_, and she was the key to it's gate.

And then, she was put in a body that slowly sapped the last of the little strength she had left and would have left her weaker then she could ever have believed. Human. If it had been him, he would have been furious. If it had been him, he would have hated, loathed the stupid kid who had taken everything and left him with nothing. He would have hated being used as a pawn for some bizarre fiasco that put him in the crosshairs, forced into something he didn't ask for. Hate as he watched his strength fade away, and he could do nothing. Weak.

She should have hated him.

But she didn't.

The sleepy old shop soon came into view; he alighted on the roof of the neighboring building.

And then he felt it.

_someonewatchinghim,shadow,aface,hiding-._

He spun around, heart thumping rapidly. The streetlights barely lit the surroundings; shadows crept across the walls and lay in the narrow alleyways between them. He stood still, listening, watching, straining his senses, spreading his reiatsu everywhere around him like a frantic, groping hand, trying to find the stalker. Nothing. The feeling had left as suddenly as it came. But he was sure of it. Someone, something, watching, and it hung over him like a careful predator...

He shook it off, checked once more, but besides a stray alley cat, the area was void of any active life.

A light turned on in the Urahara's shop; Rukia's room, he quickly noted. Putting his paranoia aside for the moment, he quickly descended to the front door, rapping on it hastily with his knuckles.

oOo

Unbeknownst to him, just a few meters away, his invisible pursuer breathed a small sigh of relief, hidden in the shadow of a billboard on the building to the left of the shop.

He had nearly seen her, that time. He must have been sensing something; she could only hope he hadn't gotten wise to her presence.

Still, the situation was growing dangerous. One wrong move from either party, and everything could go up in smoke. Everything depended on the decisions she would have to make, but one thing was clear. She could not be seen in their observation. Any interaction with the targets was forbidden.

Fidgeting with the hilt of the zanpakuto strapped to her back, she pulled the mask back down over her wistful features, highlighted by the orange glow of the street lamps. She moved to the roof of the target's location; the motion was instantaneous, noiseless save for the faint ruffle of her hooded cloak, before melted away into the shadows and out of sight.

oOo


	5. Edge of Sanity and Beyond

oOo

Orihime suddenly opened the door. She uttered a small squeak of suprise, a stuttery "K-kurosaki-kun...", then swallowed nervously and let him in. His worried eyes sought hers, but she merely looked away.

"...I think you better go in there..."

Wordlessly, he half-ran to the slightly open doorway where his partner lay within, half-slamming it open as he entered. Startled, Soifon automatically leapt to a defensive stance, Suzumebachi poised to strike. Yourichi merely looked up, stretching her human arm in weariness. Upon seeing the familiar orange-hair however, Soifon quickly lowered the zanpakuto.

"Oh, hello Kurosaki-san-"

Ichigo was equally startled by her sudden appearance, but offered a half-attempted greeting. However his gaze fell on Rukia's exposed shoulder, where a strange black crest stood out starkly against her pale skin. He watched as the wasp-shaped mark quickly began to fade.

"What the heck was that?!"

"Eh? Oh! That's right, you've never seen Suzumebachi in action-"

She quickly explained the function of her zanpakuto to the agitated boy.

"So, did it work?"

Soifon lowered her gaze, remaining silent, before uttering a low "No" and "I'm sorry". Finally, she quietly moved aside, sitting down on the mat. Ichigo remained standing, his face unreadable. Suddenly he whirled about, slamming the door back open and marching blindly down the hallway, one thing on his mind; to find Urahara. He heard Soifon and Yourichi call out, someone seized his arm, and someone yelling, the words seemed muffled and distant, drowned by the sudden roaring in his ears; the guilt, the anger, everything was threatening to explode as it slowly began to boil over within him. Urahara had to have something. Anything.

Something that would make her better.

Another door. He opened it.

Urahara stood there, fan shielding his face as if it was a defense, a pair of cold eyes watching the orange-haired boy in front of him. Ichigo ignored the two protesting females attempting to pull him back, restrain him; he froze, returning the cold, observational gaze with an acidic one of his own. There was a tense silence.

The moment passed, and the man in front of Ichigo suddenly gave a weary sigh.

"Kurosaki-san...You have got to learn to control that temper of yours..."

Urahara stepped forward, coming face to face with him, and the icy gaze returned.

"Listen carefully." The words held edge, and Ichigo could feel every breath of each syllable on his face. "We are doing everything we can. I know that this is really upsetting to you. But your acting like this will not solve the problem."

He took a deep breath and stepped back. an attempt to ease the situation. "Now, can I invite you for some tea?"

Ichigo stood, the two women still holding him catiously. Finally, he gave a defeated grunt, almost seeming to shrink as he shook himself loose from their grip. The cornered, pent-up rage was fast dissolving as he turned and retreated from the room to where Rukia was, face downcast, slammed the door. As if shamed.

After he was gone, Urahara gave a low whistle before sitting with a thump into his office chair. "Whooo... Such a reckless temper..." They were silent.

Yourichi glanced over at her former bodyguard beside her.

Noting the nonverbal request of her mistress for private discussion with Urahara, Soifon took her leave and exited the room. When everything had fallen into silence, Yourichi gave a low huff and backed against the wall, sliding down.

"He's getting riled up about this, isn't he?" she murmered.

"Well, he's the type that would."

A quiet pause. Then Yourichi got up again, coming to the front of the desk and sitting on it, her back to him.

"...You really can't figure out a cure, can you?"

"...No."

He shuffled, placing his feet up on the oaken desk and twirling the fan idly between his fingers.

"...So what now?"

Another pause.

"...For now we don't tell him. See if it's possible to get Rukia transferred to Soul Society in secret. Maybe the 4th of 12th divisions will know something. But I highly doubt it." More shuffling, as he rifled through a drawer in his desk.

"...Look at it." he murmered.

Yourichi turned to see; Urahara held the small vial he had hidden in his desk up to the dim lighting, turning it slightly.

Even with the scant light, she could easily see the mixture within, as it thrashed about its small prison. Black er then pitch, the liquid-like substance seemed to absorb the light as it continued its violent movements to escape. Yourichi watched in wide-eyed amazement.

"What the hell is that thing?!"

"...That, is the 'venom' that Kuchiki-san was injected with."

"It's alive!"

"Yes. I've never seen anything like it. I had a small sample taken yesterday when she came in; in just a few hours, it has grown eight times it's original size, and exhibited its 'motions'."

He tapped the glass with a finger; the organism within immediately began to struggle even more then before, smashing itself repeatedly against the glass.

"Dear God..."

"Oh yes. And I was curious as to why Inoue-san's power's did nothing to it. So I had her test out her Shun Shun Rikka directly on another sample," he dug again into his drawer, and pulled out a second vial. "and this is what happened."

Inside the second vial, what seemed to be a dark gas floated idly about; as he brought it closer to the light, it flinched, sttempting to hide in the shadows of his fingers through the glass. He set it next to the first sample in a stand on his desk.

"Is that alive too?"

"I beleive so. Depending on your classification of what being 'alive' is. But the point is, that this substance was already in Rukia, much longer before she was 'poisoned'. At least that is the reasonable outcome, since Inoue-san should have been able to heal her if it had occured recently. I beleive that the 'thing' in the first vial is slowly devouring Kuchiki-san's reiatsu. Soon, it will consume her whole, and from there..." he took off his hat, plopping it down and scratching his head wearily.

"Inoue-san might be able to hold the venom at bay, but eventually, her strength is going to wear out. It keeps converting back to what is contained in the first vial, despite her healing. But why it continues to grow despite the full reversal, or how, I don't know."

Yourichi leaned back, narrowing her eyes in slight agitation. "But what does it all mean? Each time we try to get an answer, we end up with more questions..."

Urahara did not answer, deep in thought. Finally he replaced his hat on his head, returning the samples to wherever he had hidden them in his desk. Getting up, he stretched, grunting slightly.

"True," he murmered to his long time companion, still standing by his desk. "We do have a lot of unanswered questions. But one thing we do know is this."

He began to head toward the door, stopped.

"Kuchicki-san is...dying."

They were motionless.

"And we know," he continued, "that whatever that thing is in vial number one is the cause of it. And that it's running through her system as of this moment."

He placed a hand on the doorknob. "So therefore, the logical conclusion is-"

"That we try to hold out until we can figure out what it is." Yourichi finished. She reverted back to her cat form, leaping up purposely to the windowsill.

"I will go to Soul society and see if I can get that transfer in secret. I'm sure Byakuya won't be happy if he finds out about this." and with that, she dissapeared out into the night.

Urahara paused a moment, then quietly exited, switching off the light as he went to go check on the Kuchiki.

His footsteps faded away.

The clack of a door opening down the hall.

Muffled voices.

A _click_ as the said door closed.

Silence.

Sure the office was empty, she quickly stepped out from the shadow of the wall; her fingers trembling, she resheathed her zanpakuto, and pulled the dark, grinning mask more securely over her features, amber eyes glowing in the half-darkness. With cat-like stealth, she stepped over to the desk, all the while keeping a check on the surrounding reiatsus. So far, there was no indication she had been detected.

From what she had heard, the younger Kuchiki was already in the second stage. There would be very little time before she...-if they did not...

This was forbidden, a voice screamed in her head. She rifled through the desk before pulling out the second vial, its writhing, black contents glittering darkly in the pale light from the window. She studied it quickly before placing it back.

It was the best thing she could do, without orders, another voice screamed back.

It was the only way.

Right?

Yes? or

No?

She was nervous, resolute, dismayed, everything, her thoughts muddled, confused. So unlike her usually cold and emotionless self. She had too. To make sure the plan stayed on track. It was the only way. Wasn't it? But being this close...

Orders.

Her mind wasn't buying the excuses.

There wasn't any other choice.

So intent on her task, she almost didn't feel the fluctuation in one of the reiatsu she was subconsciously monitoring; the boy, Kurosaki was getting up. And the man, Kisuke, he too, was moving. She froze, feeling and waiting, but the pair merely went down the hall. It felt bizarre being this close to them.

She took a calming breath, then redrew her katana.

"Bend and break, Akuma Mesai. "

She melted again into the shadows.

oOo

Sayo started to breathe a little easier once she was outside. It was done. She couldn't possibly go back now. Looking down from the rooftop of a nearby building, she slowly counted her heartbeats, calming. Thinking. What should she do now? Maybe she should-

" What the hell do you think you're doing, Sayo?!"

Startled, she turned around, recognizing the familiar female voice and the flutter of cloth. She stood a few feet from her; the amber eyes peering from the slant-eyed, white mask covering her features, were bristling with anger and concern. In one motion she perched it upon the top of her head, her eyes a light blue-green not unlike the ocean at high noon, and now brimming with concern and indignation.

"K-Kaneru...how long...?..."

Sayo blinked; instantly, Kaneru was directly in front of her, stooped down and grasped her shoulders, shaking her slightly.

"What do you think you're doing?!"

Having recovered from her surprise in seeing her here, she shook herself loose.

"...What's done is done." (She felt much bolder then usual.)

"No, what's done, is NOT done; this isn't like you, you usually think before you do something so dangerous! You know were not supposed to get that close-"

Kaneru placed a hand to her forehead, rubbing circles across it in an attempt to calm down. She easily stood a good three heads taller then Sayo, a woman in her early twenties perhaps, her long blonde hair with hints of amber falling loosely down her back like waves of gold. Her broad shoulders and slight accent were dead giveaways of her western heritage. From first appearance you could easily think she was a normal, blossoming young beauty. Save for the bizarre mask, the weathered dark shinigami robes adorning her, and the sheathed katana at her side.

She turned to look back at Sayo, and now those eyes were withering, if not slightly hurt . "You could have at least talked to me first. What if you left something behind? What if they SAW you? You know were not supposed to act unless Leader says so-"

"I had too, okay?!" Sayo suddenly snapped. She could feel the blood pounding thickly and painfully through her temples.

Kaneru was taken aback as if slapped, (This was NOT the way Sayo usually acted,) but quickly retaliated.

"No, you SHOULD have come and-"

"She's already in the third stage."

This time the blonde did a double take. "Say what?"

"It's already in the third stage." Sayo's voice was grim.

"But, how? I mean, so quickly-?..."

"Yes."

There was silence.

Finally the blonde spoke.

"...This is bad."

"...Thank you for stating the obvious, Kaneru. I never would have guessed." Sayo replied dryly.

Scowling, the blonde pulled the mask back down over her face, the cold amber-gold eyes on black returning to the eye-holes. She stepped to the edge of the roof, looking down at the quiet shop.

"...At this rate..." she paused. She began to idly tap her foot as she thought. Finally she stopped, turned back to Sayo, her dark uniform lit by the flickering orange streetlights below.

"Okay." She murmured finally. "This is what were going to do. Ill report this back to Leader and find out what we have to do next. As for you, keep watch, but DON'T do anything else. Don't come in even the slightest contact with them. Don't act. Understood?"

"..."

"Tch. Seeya."

She was gone in an instant.

Sayo stood quietly, waiting till even the faintest whiff of her reiatsu was gone before she drew the vial from her pocket.

The black mist whirled aimlessly within it's glass prison.

oOo

Urahara gestured for Ichigo to take a seat. He did so, his gaze stony and brooding as he watched the older man fan himself.

"I suppose you're wondering why I called you here, ne?"

"..."

"...Fine, be that way. You see, Kurosaki-san, were going to get Rukia to Soul Society."

"What?"

" We think that the twelth and fourth division might be able to do something."

"..."

"Just to let you know." His eyes twinkled suggestively from behind the fan.

Ichigo's eyes roved a bit in thought; he swallowed.

"I think that I-"

He was cut off by one of the most horrible noises he had ever heard.

A death scream.

No.

Rukia's scream.

oOo

Sayo was shaken from her brooding as the sound reached her ears. A sound of total unbearable agony assaulted her eardrums. A sound of unbeleiveable pain, as if the screamer were being pulled apart, slowly, piece by piece.

A sound she remembered all too well.

Instantly, she was up on her feet and down in the alley next to the building she pressed an ear to the filthy wall as the relentless shriek went on without breath. Her heart hammering, she drew her katana, mentally apologizing to Kaneru. She had to see-

"Bend and Break, Akuma Tsuihousha. Kage Mesai!"

She stepped into the wall.

oOo

Ichigo beat Urahara to the door, slamming it open and shattering the delicate wooden frame in his haste. He barely observed Orihime, running toward them from down the hall, her eyes wide in fright as they rushed into the room.

Rukia lay stiffly, her back arching, as her body wracked with convulsions. The scream frozen on her face. Her eyes streched wide to their fullest capacity in agony, the pupil dilated to such an extent it was nearly lost. And screaming. Relentlessly. Their was no end to the Hell-like sound.

It was all seared on his mind in an instant.

Suddenly her hands shot up, scratching at her face. Instinctivly he dived on top of her, attempting to hold her still as he grabbed her wrists and tried to pry them away. Deep scratches were etched into her left cheek from her own fingernails. Screaming.

Blood.

He was screaming.

Two voices.

He wanted to her to stop.

He wanted her to recognize him.

Stop.

He managed to pin her hands to her side with much difficulty. An inhuman strength seemed to course through her limbs as she sought to free them. Delicate fingers turned to talons. Rough. Smooth. Sweat. Electircity coursing painfully through his every nerve.

Urahara. Orihime. They were blurs to his mind. As he yelled her name, tried to get her to wake; her unseeing gaze pointed at the ceiling. She was gone. Away from him. Pinning her down, crushing her with himself. Shaking her, he was shaking. Screams.

Agony.

Pressure.

Energy.

Look at me.

See me.

God. God. Let her see me.

Wake up. Come back.

Agony.

White. Black. Red. Blue.

A dark energy surging within him, reacting to her, somehow.

Empty.

He saw it.

A flash.

Screams.

A sudden blow, like a sledgehammer to his face, knocking him away. More yelling as he struggled to sit up, to get to her, to make her see, but a pair of strong arms pinned him down. Couldn't think. It was all instinct now, raging anger as he lay helplessly. Watched sideways. The floor.

Urahara. The orange glow of the lantern.

Ebony. Pale skin. Dark.

Sweat.

Blood.

The scream became a howl.

He felt electricity dance across his slick skin.

His eyes were burning.

Blur.

He couldn't feel anything except for weight. Crushing him down. He stopped struggling, laying still. His chest heaving for breath for air. Roaring.

He couldn't hear.

But everything so vividly clear.

He could do nothing.

Nothing.

His eyes were burning.

_You can't do anything _a familiar voice mocked in his head. _Nothing_

_Nothing You're worth nothing_

_Helpless liitle boy_

_Helpless_

_Nothing-_

Eerie, insane laughter.

Pain suddenly blinding him, shooting through his every nerve.

His head was splitting.

He was going to lose his mind.

He was going to lose everything.

Electricity.

Screaming.

"Soten Kisshun, I reject!"

The orange glow of the lantern.

Ichigo blacked out.

oOo


	6. Uncontrolled and The First Dream

oOo

Ichigo woke with a start, shooting up and regreting it immediately as the blood pounded through his temples and his cheek. It felt like the worst hangover in his life coupled with every brainfreeze he had ever had; his head was splitting open-

"You're awake."

After his bleary eyes had adjusted to the dark, barely lit room, he spotted the speaker, someone he least expected; Ishida crossed his arms across his chest, frowning slightly at Ichigo.

"...Uryuu? What-" He weakly made a move to stand, but a large hand pressed him back down firmly.

"You need to rest."

"Chado?"

"..."

The burly mexican teen sat down beside him, once he was sure Ichigo was not going to move. Ichigo pressed a hand against his forehead, then his throbbing face. His memory felt oddly blank as he struggled to-

"Rukia!"

This time he managed to stand, teetering back and forth as the room swayed in front of his eyes. He took a step toward the door only to be confronted by a burly chest.

"Chad. Move."

"No."

"Chad-"

"She's fine for now, Kurosaki. You can't do anything to help her, so just sit your ass back down." Ishida interrupted, pushing his glasses further up his nose in agitation.

The tense standoff continued as Ichigo fought to keep his legs from quivering beneath his weight. Suddenly he felt a gentle tug on his hand.

"K-kurosaki-san..."

He looked down only to be confronted by Ururu's large doe-like eyes, filled with concern and fright. His defiant gaze softened as the little girl swallowed nervously and released her hold on him. He hadn't even realized she was there.

"Please..."

"..."

With a defeated sigh, he returned to his bedroll, sprawling out on his back. The girl let out a releived breath, before quietly exiting the room.

Quiet settled over the room as the three men waited.

Finally, Ichigo spoke.

"How is she?"

Neither of his friends replied.

He waited a few moments but after realizing he wasn't going to get a response, he tried again, swallowing hard.

"How is she?"

"Ichigo..."

Suddenly there was a clack as the door opened. The two men looked up; Ichigo continued to gaze emptily at the ceiling.

"Is he awake?"

"Yeah."

Ichigo's vision was obscured by a tanned face and dark, violet-black hair.

"Hello strawberry. Feeling better?"

"..."

Yourichi stood back up, stretching. Then, she turned to the other two men.

"If you don't mind, I need to talk to strawberry for a moment. Would you excuse us?"

Wordlessly, the pair shuffled out.

Sighing, Yourichi sat with a thud next to him. He remained still, waiting.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, she's alright for now. Just sleeping."

"..."

She was silent for a minute, then lay back on the floor, crossing her arms behind her head.

"Ichigo. This is important. You have to talk to me. What do you remember?"

"...What do you mean?"

"When you went in that room. What do you remember?"

Silence.

"Ichigo?-"

"I heard her scream."

"..."

"...I got to the door first. When I opened it, she was...she was..." he swallowed. "She was still screaming."

"Did you see anything?"

"...I-I..."

The darkness of the room yawned, threatening to engulf him.

"...I just saw her screaming. Then she-she, tried to..."

He could still feel her trying to wrench her hands from his with inhuman strength. The slick skin. He could feel her writhing beneath him as if possessed.

"And then...I felt...someone hit me..." He touched his tender cheek, just realizing how the vision of his left eye was slowly being obscured by the swelling.

"And then what?" she pressed.

"...Someone held me down...after that...I..."

His mind was blank.

They both fell into a thoughtful silence.

Suddenly Yourichi sat up, glancing over at him. "So you have no memory of..."

"Of what?"

She pursed her lips, a serious expression brooding over her face.

"Ichigo. Listen to me carefully."

He sat up.

She locked eyes with him, holding him.

"You need to stay away from her for now on."

"What?!"

"I don't know all the details. You don't remember?"

"Remember what?!" He was getting more and more agita-

"You tried to go vaizard."

The silence suddenly went electric.

"...What?"

" Urahara told me. As you were holding her, your energy started changing flow. He knocked you off before you made the full transformation."

He was numb.

"Tousen tried holding you down but you broke free..."

Now his mind raced to remember, only to be faced with that gnawing blankness and something like mocking laughter.

"And she..."

The door suddenly slammed open. Ururu's white face appeared, bathed in an orange glow from the candle she held in her trembling hand. " Yourichi-san! Come quickly! She's-"

Instantly she was out the door, her long ponytail whipping behind her. He made a move to follow but-

"No, Ichigo! Stay here!"

_But..._

He got to his feet.

"S-stop!..."

The little girl had seized him by the back oh his robes, pulling him back.

"Ururu!-"

He felt it.

A pulse of reiatsu. He felt it shoot up his spine, fry his brain. So much power. Just for a second, but it imprinted itself on him. So hungry, and dark, and-

He clutched his chest, a sudden bolt of pain shooting through an all too familiar spot, not pain like a cut, but emptiness, an insane emptiness-

"K-kurosaki?..."

The mask forming over his features.

What? He hadn't called-

Ichigo was thrust to the very back of his mind, held there by unseen hands. So fast. No time to struggle. No time to even blink.

He wheeled around.

"**What do you want, little brat?" **he growled.

The amber eyes glowed hungrily, devoid of any humanity.

He took a step toward his prey-

oOo

Rukia was almost gone.

Almost.

A tiny part of her, a tiny part of her soul, her conciousness cowered down while the rest of Rukia, whatever Rukia meant, was blown away.

And replaced by nothing. Empty. But it was raging, dark. Like storm clouds before the rain falls. Chaos itself. She felt nothing and everything, all at once.

Terrified, but there was no thought. Thinking was impossible. What's going on?

Who am I?

_**YOU...**_

_**ARE...ME...**_

Something answers.

Pain beyond imagining.

She screamed as what felt like her soul began to split in two.

Brilliant white.

Fade to black.

oOo

Ichigo slammed into the wall, struggling to pull the mask off his face. Felt his frantic fingers scrape the skin of his foreheads as they fought to work under the edge. A voice was shrieking hysterically in his head, laughing and screaming. He roared in anger and something else. Through blurred vision he could see where Ururu stood motionless her eyes bright and terrified.

_Run_! he screamed at her silently. Then-

A third Reiatsu. But different. It was dark, it was dangerous, but unlike the wild pulsating energies all around him, smothering him, it was under control. Calm. It rolled over him like a wave, crushing him down. He fell to his knees. Screaming. He could see nothing.

_Ichigo Kurosaki._

He opened his eyes.

He floated in darkness, above below, everywhere around him. Yet he could see. How strange. And calm. Wasn't he just fighting the hollow within himself just a little while ago?-

_Turn around._

He did so.

Rukia stood there in her school uniform, arms crossed across her chest.

"What-"

_Listen to me carefully._ Rukia murmered in a voice that was not Rukia. It was fuzzy and wavered as if she was talking through a screen. She raised a hand; there was a flash of light and-

He blinked a few times, letting his eyes adjust to the harsh sunlight. A gentle breeze carressed his face and he found himself lying on grass, the small blades weaving between his clenchedfingers. The sky overhead rumbled, grey clouds brooding with thoughts of rain. He sat up and took a moment to gather in his surroundings.

He was seated on a grassy hill, devoid of any trees or rocks. A large blue sea stretched before him into darkness as far as he could see. He looked to the side, behind him. Nothing but grass and hill, repeating for miles. Or at least, he thought it was miles. It smelled of salt and earth after the rain. Unreal.

He saw a speck of white down below him, near the water's edge.

Rukia stood, beckoning him, dressed in the outfit she had worn at her near-execution.

He got up, finding he felt fine, no weariness or nausea to slow him down. He approached her.

"You're not Rukia." It came out accusingly, almost childish.

She-who-was-not-Rukia smiled at him, a gentle smile and did not answer. Instead she turned and knelt at the water's edge, placing a hand below it's crystaline surface. She looked back at him, then back out to the water. Taking this as a sign that he should do the same, he knelt beside her, looking below the surface.

Bones. Hundreds of piled bones, from beast and man stretched below the pristine surface; he fell backward on his butt, startled, then slowly crept forward again to look.

Suddenly the world vanished and he was below the water. Was it water? He let out a gasp of suprise, then realized he could breathe. It was deep, and he could not see the bottom, just shimmering blue and grey all around, and the surface shimmering a few feet overhead.

_Things are not always what they appear._

He spun around, thoroughly freaked out by now. This time, Rukia was dressed in shinigami garb, Sode no Shirayuki resting in its sheath at her waist. Her expression was deadpan and serious.

"Who are you?!"

_That is not important right now._ The voice was clear this time, piercing.

"It DAMN well is impor-"

_Listen carefully._ The voice murmered. It sounded young and bright like a childs, and yet, old and sorrowful like a grandmother's.

_You are special. You are not like any other shinigami, or human, or even hollow. You are unique._

"Yeah. I figured as much. But that still doesn't answer what's the Hell is going on."

_But you are not the only one._

"Wait, what?-"

_From now on, you must stay away from Rukia._ It was sharp. An order.

There was that sentence again.

"Why the fuck should I do that?" He was getting more and more angrier and annoyed by the second.

_If you care about her at all, you will listen to me. My time is up._

The water around them began to fade to black. He was floating in emptiness. "Rukia" had vanished.

_Remember. If you care about her, you will stay away. _

"Wait! You haven't answered my ques-"

_Do not tell anyone about our discussion._ The voice was growing fainter by the second.

He slowly felt himself rising, rising toward light as the voice sunk away from him.

"WAIT!-"

He sat up.

Startled, Ururu scuttled back, but seeing that he was back (and staying as,) his regular self, crept forward again on hands and knees.

"K-kurosaki-san?...Are you alright?"

He suddenly felt sick to his stomach, so tired as waves of exhaustion crashed down on him. He nodded. "I'm sorry Ururu..."

"...Mmm..."

Feeling to ill to stand, he instead lay back on the floor, closing his eyes and wishing the pain, the sickness would go away.

"Kurosaki-san?!" Her voice rose in concern and she shook him by the shoulder.

"I'm alright." He murmered. It was getting harder and harder to stay concious. So tired. "Go see how Rukia is..."

He slipped off before he could hear her reply.

oOo


	7. Ice and Concrete, The Wind of Fate Blows

oOo

_**Awake.**_

_**Rukia.**_

She opened her eyes.

Ebony sky flooded her vision, framed by ominous gray clouds and silent evergreens, their snow-covered tops pointing to the thousand twinkling stars peeking through overhead. A full moon burned quietly to the top right of her vision, casting soft white light over her.

Cold bit down into her senses, cutting through right to her soul, her core, in an instant. She gave a small gasp as it flooded over her nerves, and sat up in the snow.

Snow?

Where on earth was she-

_**You're awake.**_

_Awake._

She turned to see the largest white wolf she had ever seen. Not that she had seen one before.

Well, once...

_They forget so quickly, in the arms of dreams..._

Its fur shown like a thousand crystal strands in the moonlight, flawlessly white. And so large, larger then a horse, though she was sure it wasn't really so; just that its regalness gave one the impression. It could look her directly in the eyes from where it laid beside her, piercing blue eyes, so pale, one could almost not detect the color there. But so much older, wiser. She knew that from this one glance she could not possibly ever forget them.

Strange, she thought. Here she was, staring into the eyes of a creature that could tear her to shreds in an instant.

Yet she was not afraid.

She knew it. The wolf. Somehow.

_**You recognize me, and yet you do not.**_

"You...You're Sode No Shirayuki." The words came before the thought ever occurred.

Somehow.

_What sort of person does not know herself?_

_**Yes, my Rukia.**_

Suddenly, a sharp wind blew past, piercing her face and hands with knives of chilling cold. The snow billowed around her ankles. The stars and moon disappeared as the clouds began to swirl, growing darker, shards of ice pelting down.

_**Come.**_

_Yes, come._

The great wolf stood, turned away, its huge paws leaving an even track through the snow. Shielding her face with her arms, she followed, hail and snow slicing her skin as they began to enter the forest of trunks, all lined symmetrically, like bars of a cage, row upon row. The wind howled and slammed around her.

Rukia raised her arms to shield herself from the icy fragments pelting her, blinded but barely able to make out the huge form before her, followed, watching the huge paw prints disappear within a few seconds of being made.

After a few minutes, she couldn't feel her feet anymore, stumbling she fell into the drift, shaking.

_**Come.**_

She realized her ears did not hear the words, as it whispered through her mind, coaxing her like a beckoning hand. Forcing herself to her feet, she pushed on, the snow slowing her, dragging her, calling her to fall and let it cover over her like a icy blanket, let her fall asleep...

She pressed on.

oOo

The alley was silent. The cat continued poking through the garbage, scuffed and brown, searching for an evening meal. This particular shop was a strange place, and many of the other cats refused to go anywhere near it. He was young however, and had little thought of any possible dangers lurking around. Plus, the red-headed kid was really wasteful when it came to food-

Suddenly, a dark, spinning vortex opened from the wall; a figure stumbled from it, collapsing on their hands and knees and gasping. Startled, the cat began to utter a yowl, hissing, but something clasped around its throat, choking it of breath. Panicking, it struggled; it had not sensed anything. The grip refused to let go; there was nothing for the cat to scratch, no physical shape or form to bite. It was an animal, instinct ran its actions.

After a few seconds it stopped struggling, dangling limply from the black embodiment that circled it like a snake's coil. After a moment, Sayo released it, the long whip-like coils melting back into the darkness, leaving the still form behind. Close. Too close. She breathed heavily, her small pants echoing off the grimy walls.

Too much.

Her whole body was racked with exhaustion, and no wonder; that raging maelstrom of chaotic reiatsu had been like sitting inside a running drier filled with rocks, times two. Aching, she staggered to her feet.

It had taken an incredible amount of her reiatsu to quell the two, not to mention to keep herself from alerting the former captain and the other occupants as well of her presence-

"Sayo!"

A harsh whisper.

Kaneru suddenly appeared in the entrance of the alleyway, her eyes wide.

"No..."

"...I-I'm sorry Kaneru..."

"Why?!" she had grabbed her by the shoulders again, forcing the shorter girl to look up at her. Her voice struggled to keep low, but anger caused her every word to his like a pot boiling over.

"Not here. We will talk...elsewhere."

Stiffly, the blonde let her go, flipping the hood of her cloak over her head in agitation.

"...Fine." she murmured. Her blue-green eyes were hard.

The pair vanished.

Slowly the cat began to wake, blinking its large yellow eyes slowly. A flood of recent memories overrode the animal's mind. With a startled _Mrowr!_ It turned tail, racing out of the alley, pell-mell for another district. It was the last time it would ever go near THAT place again, free food or not.

oOo

Ichigo woke with a start. He found himself seated up, his hand reaching out before him, grasping toward the opposite wall, words he could not remember dying on his lips.

A dream…

He did not remember it.

Something about his mother, at least he thought-

He struggled to remember, but the lest shreds of it escaped his clutches like fleeting winds. Frustration over-rid his still waking thoughts as he rubbed his eyes wearily-

Rukia.

Where was she?

Actually, for that matter, where was he?

It did not look like Urahara's shop. The warm wood-paneled walls were gone, replaced by empty concrete wall all around, a bare, unlit light bulb dangling from the ceiling. He himself was lying on a small cot, Zangetsu propped up against the wall next to him. A window cast light where he lay, orangish light from some streetlamp-

"You alright?"

Yourichi's voice.

He got up immediately, though he staggered dizzily for a moment.

"I see."

She pushed off the wall she had been leaning against, stood before him.

"As you can see, we've moved you a fair distance away from Karakura town. Were in the Hideki region, I believe. In one of our old haunts. You've been out for about a day."

Her gaze became icy and stern. "…You have to keep some distance from Kuchiki-san, alright?"

He grew wide-eyed from all the sudden information before returning to a seething expression.

"What…the **Hell** is going on?"

The woman suddenly seemed much older, a strange weariness and sadness enfolding her eyes.

"Honestly, I wish I knew."

She sat on the cot and motioned for him to do likewise. He did so.

The pair sat in silence, gazing into the blank concrete wall that enfolded them like a tomb. Finally, Ichigo spoke.

"…I'm really… a danger to her, then, aren't I…?"

She remained silent. But it was answer enough.

"…I shouldn't have ever left her there by herself."

"Now, now, don't be foolish. What happened was a freak accident-"

"-How the **Hell** can you call that an **accident**?!" he roared, standing. His eyes were filled with guilt and self-loathing. "I should have been here…I should have known something was wrong-If I had come back qui-"

"-Now you listen." She growled, standing as well. Though she was shorter then him, her very aura was filled with fierce intimidation. "You couldn't have possibly known what was going to happen. And even if you came home early from your trip, there probably wouldn't have been anything you could have done."

He turned away.

They stood silently, then-

"…Then how do you explain the hollow mask…?" his voice felt strangely unfamiliar.

Yourichi did a double-take. "What?-"

He turned back to her, his eyes hidden in shadow. "I remember a little. When I held her down. I sort of saw…something." His voice was hollow and deadpan.

Yourichi closed her eyes.

"Ichigo. As I said before, you tried to go vaizard. Urahara, everyone saw. Now if you're suggesting, Rukia-" she paused. "-No one saw anything like that happen, okay? Not even Urahara. You were probably in a strange state as it were anyway."

Ichigo remained silent. A small wave of relief passed over him. Maybe he had only been seeing a delusion during his uncontrolled state-

_You are special, not like any shinigami, or human, or even a hollow._

_But you are not the only one._

He sat dejectedly back down on the cot leaning over his knees and rubbing his eyes wearily. She joined him.

A pause.

"Ichigo."

He looked slightly her way to show he was listening.

She grasped his shoulder gently. "Do you remember when we went to Soul Society? When you had three days to master bankai? No one of normal caliber would have been able to do it. Heck, No one of even talented caliber would have been able. But you did it. You'll get through this." Her eyes became soft, almost motherly.

"…She'll get through this…We all will… okay?"

He straightened slightly, bowing his head. "…Okay."

But the strange uneasiness and guilt continued to gnaw at his heart.

Yourichi suddenly sat up. "I'm gonna go get us some chow, alright? What are you in the mood for, ramen? Miso soup?"

"I'm not hungry."

His stomach growled loudly on cue. Embarrassed, he held a hand over it.

"Ramen it is!" she grinned. "I'll be right back, alright?"

She began to head for the door then paused. "Don't…go anywhere, alright?" There was an edge of severity despite her sudden cheerful change in mood.

He nodded. It wasn't like he had anyplace to go.

She turned and shut the door with a soft _click._

Leaving him to his thoughts.

_My name Is Ichigo Kurosaki._

_I am eighteen years old and miles from home._

_One of my closest friends is…in danger. _

_And I may be making it worse._

_My family has no idea I am gone._

_I have no idea about where I am._

_Things have suddenly gone so crazy._

_I didn't even have time to blink._

_And I have to stay away from her. For both of us._

Would miles be enough?

He felt like he was standing on the edge of a precipice…

oOo

"Sayo, I want an explanation. Now." The blonde girl growled.

The two were seated far above the ground, on the top of a skyscraper, legs dangling freely from the edge. Kaneru had pulled her cloak more tightly around her to ward off the chilly night air. A day had passed, and her companion had remained infuriatingly silent. Finally, she had agreed to talk.

"Sayo. Answer me-"

"…I'm sorry I broke your promise." Her voice was quiet, but held all sincereity.

"I talked with the Leader. You have to go back."

Sayo turned to her suddenly with a cry of outrage. "What? Why?!"

"Duh. You broke the rules!"

"I had too! She was going to-"

"Look," Kaneru interrupted. "I know that whatever you did, you did with the best of intentions. But you still should have at least sent word to someone." Her voice was firm, but understanding.

"…There wasn't enough time."

"Well, either way, you have to go back. They'll be sending someone else to take your place for he time being."

The smaller girl gave a grunt of disgust. "By who?"

"Dunno yet. I'm to watch the Kurosaki kid. Anything I should know about him?"

Sayo lowered her gaze. How could she begin? She'd been watching him for so long-

"…No. Just be careful. He may bumble a lot, but he may surprise you."

"Alright."

Kaneru got up, stretching. Sayo was unusually talkative tonight, very unlike her usual stoic self. She turned to face her, examining her for a moment.

Small, with dark-brown hair and large red brown or hazel eyes, her hair cut short in the back with unusually long side bangs, one could never have told her apart from any other seven or ten year old. Her cloak was too big for her, the brown cloth threatening to envelope her delicate form. Yet-

"The gate should be opened soon." She sighed, turning her gaze back out to before them. Karakura stretched out before them, the twinkling lights faint in the cool night air. It was getting rather chilly. Especially up here. She tucked her robe more securely around her exposed forearms.

"…Mmm… Kaneru…?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry."

The blonde smiled at the distance. "It's okay. But…you know you can trust me, right?"

"Yes." The smaller girl rose.

"…I must return anyway. I have something important to tell the Leader."

"Ah? What's that?"

"…"

"Fine. Be that way." A small twinge of annoyance.

"I must go."

"Alright. Take care, okay? I'm sure you'll be back before you know it."

Kaneru brought out a small squarish device, tracking her newly assigned target. It was about the size of a book, the screen a clear map of her surrounding area with a green dot blinking far to the right corner. Not that it was all that necessary for her to use it; the Kurosaki kid spewed out so much reiatsu 24/7, that it was like a great big, screaming beacon. Even a complete, bumbling idiot could find him eventually.

She set off on her task, speeding off at a decent pace.

Going back to the Leader so quickly had put some strain on her. She could feel it in her legs. Time to take it easy.

A few dozen miles at a time should be alright. At least she hoped.

She sped off towards the beacon-boy.

Suddenly the little device she had tucked securely into her gi let out a flurry of beeps. She landed lightly on a telephone pole and drew it out; a trio of large red dots flickered on the screen, rapidly moving towards a much smaller blue dot from different directions.

Hollows.

Where was the damn shinigami protecting the area? She wondered angrily. There were no white dots appearing from any corner of the screen. With a growl of frustration she turned towards where she could feel the vicious reiatsus in the distance. The screen said she was just on the outskirts of Karakura.

The three red dots were almost on top of the small blue one.

_Dammit-_

She sped towards them.

In a just a few seconds she was there, alighting soundlessly on a creaking rooftop, its tiles almost all gone; a small courtyard with abandoned buildings all around. Many of them were crumbling, some burnt out, all scheduled for demolition. The night was clear and the moon was high. It was a perfect setting for ghosts.

She could see two of the hollows from her perch, each monstrous, their grotesque white masks and amber eyes leering at their prey far below. One had long thin arms, armored and lined with spikes, its mask coming forward in a pointed snout like a bird's beak. The other was horned and dark green in color, nasty black-green hair sprouting from its skull and falling down its back. Her heart wrenched as she saw what they gazed at; a old lady lay trembling at their feet, clutching something to her breast. Their hungry grunts and the occasional purplish tongues licking their teeth made it clear she hadn't arrived a moment too soon.

But where was the thir-

She flashed out of the way just in time, as the roof beneath her feet exploded. Skidding on air, she drew her blade, countering the blow that came from the dust cloud, but as the air cleared…

She swiped down, effectively pushing back her attacker, backflipped and landed on a neighboring rooftop. By now the sudden commotion had gotten the attention of the two hollows below her; they came, leaping towards her. She easily maneuvered out of the way-

_Behind_

She blocked the strike that had been aimed at her spine before evening fully turning around. Twisting she drew back, her sword ringing as she drew it against the metal, as she grit her teeth and-.

_Metal?_

No, her eyes hadn't deceived her.

This hollow looked like a human.

Broken pieces of mask clung to its face, its right arm was just one huge blade, the border between flesh and metal undefined. It wore a strange white robe with markings all around it.

"What the **Hell** are you?!" she snarled, eyes narrowing ferally. It began to answer-

_RightsideDANGER_

She leapt, rocketing skyward as the armored hollow demolished the concrete with a blow from its arms.

Forget about talking. She was putting the older lady in danger.

A breath. She closed her eyes and felt her body stop for a moment, hold its ascent, then gravity catch her. She was plummeting back to earth, headfirst, the wind shrieking in her ears as her blond hair streamed behind her. Her hand gripped on the hilt of her zanpakutou, both waiting.

_Inhale._

She landed lightly. Opened her eyes and re-sheathed her blood stained blade.

A pause.

The two large hollows collapsed to the earth in pieces, decapitated limbs and masked heads falling in a red stained pile.

_Exhale._

"Impressive."

She turned to look at the strange human-hollow. His face was pudgy, a evil grin playing across his features. He was rather short, adorned in white clothing, his blade still drawn.

"You didn't answer my question. What are you?" Kaneru growled, her eyes deadly.

"Oh-hoh? I thought all you shinigami knew, after that war and all." He took a step forward. She took a stance, raising her hand, ready to redraw her blade. She lowered her gaze, strands of gold hair falling into her flashing eyes, as if challenging it to draw closer.

It gestured with his hands. Or more like hand. "I am an arrancar. Much stronger then those puny hollows you killed over there." He pointed lazily to where the pile of hollow parts was still vanishing into the wind.

"And you-" he turned his gaze back to her as his eyes narrowed cruelly. " -are about to join them."

Dark reiatsu surged from the figure, enveloping the surroundings. Baffled but focused, the poster-blonde girl placed her hand again on the hilt, feeling the familiar tremor beneath her fingers...

oOo


	8. The Fissure and Amoebaman

oOo

Numb.

Her whole body felt numb.

Countless stumbling in icy snow drifts, the cold beckoning her aching body to fall. Particles of ice cutting her skin. Rows of dark trunks after trunks amidst the hurricane of white. Rukia could not believe she was still standing, let alone walking. She hugged her shuhakusho tighter around her body.

And still the wolf before her padded silently on.

Suddenly, the rows of trees ended and she found herself at the edge of some vast frozen plain. It swept away from her; she could not make out much farther through the driving snow. The wolf, no, Sode no Shirayuki had disappeared.

**_There is something you must see._**

_What?_

**_Come._**

She staggered on, almost drunkenly in her exhausted state. The snowy landscape before her swayed and grew blurry as she closed her eyes. She felt as if she was buoying toward a surface, like a bubble in water, growing closer to darkness- A flash of orange, bright and messy, almost to the point of being annoyingly so, but familiar, across her vision, calling her up-

"Ichi…go?" her voice speaking the first thing brought to mind. But no, the moment passed and white refocused itself before her eyes. She found herself on hands and knees, strands of black hair flew in her vision as she watched flakes of frost bury her porcelain hands up to the wrists. Slowly she sat so she was kneeling, wrapping her quivering hands into her sleeves, to warmth.

**_You are weary._**

Weakly she looked up, her feverish amethyst gaze locking on piercing, pale blue eyes. The wolf circled her once, almost indiscernible from the vacant sheet of white. It looked up to the sky as a particular vicious gale sliced past them, ruffling its fur.

**_This world…is filled with turmoil._**

_Yes, it is. Hatred, anger, sorrow, guilt, such things can easily cause such a maelstrom. And more._

"W-why have -you brought-t me here?" her sentence was broken with shuddering pants.

She was beyond shivering in this cold.

The wolf nuzzled her shoulder affectionately. There was no warmth in its breath, as a large furry animal would have, rather, she felt a tremor of cold flow through her skin, but unlike the surroundings which sapped her strength, it felt alive, almost refreshing.

**_Stand, my Rukia. It is not much further._**

She did so.

**_Come._**

That ever beckoning voice, like a mother and yet not. Something closer to her then her very skin.

The next moments were a blur. Yet suddenly she found herself standing at the edge of a fissure, a jagged scar against the perfect landscape she had been crossing, stretching as far as her eyes could see from left to right. The jagged granite edges was untouched by snowShe crouched, barely feeling the jagged stone under her fingertips. A wild rush of wind blew up from the darkness, seemingly more icy then on the surface, if that was possible.

**_Down there. You must go down there._**

_Yes, come._

Rukia started the long climb down, her hands and feet searching for footholds along the jagged rockwall…

oOo

He attacked without warning.

Kaneru blocked with her still sheathed blade, skidding back as her feet fought for a hold against the pavement. The hideous face leered inches before her own wide eyes and dumbstruck face, pieces of broken mask framing the pasty, fleshy skin.

Suddenly, she ducked, the blade followng up the sheath as she went beneath his strike, was past him, behind him-

His golden eyes widened in surprise as he watched from the corner of his eye as she twisted back towards him like water in the air, aiming her hand palm-first at his exposed back- He was turning, but moving far too slow, much too slow to intercept-

Her eyes narrowed.

"Hadou Four, Byakurai!"

Instantly a huge release of crackling, white lightning exploded from her hand, disintegrating the earth as it raced toward the hollow with a partially human face...-

There was a resounding _Ka-boom,_ as dust and chunks of concrete flew into the air.

However...

She dodged to the left as the great blade smashed just where she had been standing.

"You...you little bitch." the arrancar snarled.

Her shot had hit, his white robe around the upper torso was now in smoking tatters. She could smell the burnt flesh and see where it had grazed the side of his face, blistering it red and raw.

"You're dead, girlie!" he roared. Suddenly, the left side of his body began to churn, burbling grotesquely as she watched in horror and disgust.

The flesh pulled away, formed-

Now their were two of him...it.

Amoeba-man, she thought dryily.

Now four.

Now eight.

Now sixteen.

Now-

They spread around her, standing in all places of escape around the crumbling buildings and leering. She watched with grim intrest.

"Did you really think you could beat me, Tiga of the indestructable body?!" An insane grin as the original figure stepped forward, the blade that was his arm glistening. "There's no way you can face us all!"

He licked his lips. "I'm going to take my sweet time with such a delicious treat like you, then that pathetic piece of trash over there." he jerked his thumb to where the old lady lay still, waching in terror, still clutching the bundle to her chest.

Kaneru glowered, her vibrant blue-green eyes filled with an intense hate. "...You're wasting my time. Hurry up and attack. I don't have time to waste on a dick like you. I got something more important to attend to."

His grin dissapeared as anger crossed his features and he took another menacing step. "Why you bi-"

She grimaced in distaste. "Here, I'll make it easier for you. I'll go first."

She took the familiar T-stance, one hand on her sheath, the other gripping the delicately adorned hilt. Her body seemed to blur for a second, the edges, the details indistinct and he heard a vague hum pass by him.

She didn't move.

Suddenly it stopped, whirling and she stood up straight, releasing her hold on the sword at her waist.

The hollow recovered from its surprised expression and sneered again. "Giving up? What a pitiful waste-"

"Look around you, ass-wipe." She interrupted.

He looked.

Each clone suddenly fell at once, blood spraying from countless deep slashes. His gaze became shocked and a trickle of sweat dripped down his fat cheek.

"Still want a piece of me?"

Her eyes could have pierced stone.

The air suddenly became thick as her spiritual pressure increased ten-fold, as if gravity itself had focused on this single point. The pavement cracked, the surrounding buildings groaned in protest as she took a step forward. Dark and wild, and familiar-

Something was wrong though; she suddenly clutched her chest, gasping. The pressure was nearly unbearable now, bearing down like some monstrous invisible hand. Loose dark energy tore up to the heavens, a beacon-

She grit her teeth.

Taking advantage of her sudden distraction, he split again, again, again...

Finally the pressure ebbed away and Kaneru looked up, panting lightly. A flash of gold.

He pressed the great blade against the terrified grandmother's throat, as sweat poured down his face and he hid his own body precariously around his human shield. He had taken her hostage in Kaneru's moment of weakness. Fear pooled in the depths of his eyes-

"Don't move! Don't move! One step and I'll...I'll kill her dead!" he roared unable to hide the hint of terror quivering in his voice, shaking the poor woman roughly-

Blood exploded from his arms as the slash he did not see seperated them from his body in an instant. Something shoved him backward; all too fast, too quickly to see-The old woman was gone from his grip as red overtook his vision, splashed his face and blinded him-

The katana rose, preparing to give the final strike, flashing blue-green eyes-

oOo

It was dark, so far below the surface. She couldn't even see the snowy grey sky anymore.

Somehow, Rukia had done it. She had come to this dark place after what felt like hour after numbing hour of clutching at the frozen rocks and earth always at the mercy of gravity and the frigid air, here in the inky depths. She could hardly see her hand in front of her face.

**_Here._**

She felt the familar fur brush by her bare arm.

Wind suddenly shrieked toward her out of the darkness before her like a demonic banshee. She threw her arms up to protect her face from the icy blast; a horrible feeling flooded her being, like something was eating through her mind, something that searched roughly like a groping hand. It was so dark, colder then death...

The wind picked up, blowing her physically back as she struggled to keep her footing. Cold, like something she had never experienced, cold and dead like a tomb and fear opened a deep dread in her stomach...

Pain.

Agony suddenly shot through her every nerve; her shoulder was a blazing fire of agony. She fell to her knees, screaming, grasping it and shuddering. So sudden. She thought her head was going to split. Once again all rationality retreated into the blank red spreading through her brain. The pain was unbeleivable. As if every wound she had suffered, both physical and more, had been tore open and had acid poured in.

Unbeleiveable.-

-She tried to reach up and scratch, tear frantically at her face, as what felt like thousands of red-ants biting spread across the leftt side, devouring her skin as it prickled unpleasantly; but something held her arms down, despite her attempts to free them, like iron chains. Something roared her name over and over again as an unbearable foreign pressure bore down, wild and grim, and she felt something, somewhere within the darkness of this fissure so far below, resonate.

Something within her very soul echoed back.

She could not keep holding on like this. Already she felt herself, everything, beginning to slip away as the onslaught continued. Her own personal, nightmarish hell so far below the surface. Panic, fear, desperation; the surroundings fed off of it and flourished, Something was going to break, something had to give or she would break, she would break-

Fur against her face.

Immediately the pain began to lessen, the strange prescence that had been treading carelessly through her mind dissapeared, as if a door had suddenly slammed shut, blocking it out; the wind picked up as if enraged, slicing like icy needles into her skin. Nonetheless, the wall of white fur protecting her stood firm.

After what felt like an eternity, the foul gale dissappeared past her, racing off toward areas unknown. And with it, all the pain. She opened her eyes weakly, unaware that she had closed them, trembling. A sudden stillness permeated the darkness.

The wolf collapsed.

"Sode no Shirayuki!" her voice was choked, nothing more then a harsh throated whisper, but the syllables bounded off the walls, growing.

Staggering, the wolf stood, managed to take a few steps before leaning wearily against the wall, slowly sinking to its feet. Rukia crept toward it, too weak to stand and run. A feeling of despair and terror building in her chest.

"Sode no Shirayuki!" Her hands were lost in the carpet of white fur, porcelain hands glided amongst the silver strands. She felt like a small child that had just lost her mother; unguided, unprotected, and suddenly exposed to the world.

**It is alright, My Rukia...**

The voice was weak as the great beast raised its head.

Those haunting pale-blue eyes.

**I have brought you...As far as I can...**

It closed its eyes and laid its head back down.

**You must go. You must see. Alone.** There was urgency in the gentle voice, pained.

Already it was begining to fade away like a shadow, the body becoming more and more indistinct. Rukia shook it's shoulder frantically.

**I am not dying **

It murmered as if it had read her thoughts. **But...this is as far...as...you can let me go...**

Rukia's eyes went wide.

The wolf was gone.

**Be strong. Do not falter...I shall be watching...**

**I am always there...I will protect you...**

**Go...you must...see...**

The voice was little more then a whisper.

"W-wait! Sode no Shirayuki!"

**...my Rukia...**

The zanpakutou's prescence was gone.

The silence was unbearable.

Alone, Rukia sat silently in thought. There was only one thing left to do now.

She stood and trekked on, one slow step at a time, toward the unknown...

oOo

Ichigo slurped the noodles eagerly, his half-hearted attempts to slow his comsumption failing miserably. Yourichi watched with muted intrest, a small frown of disgust crossing her features.

"Ugh, your eating habits are atrocious. I don't know how your family can stand it. Oh yeah, you got bean paste dribbled down your front." She offered a napkin which he accepted, his ears red.

He plunked the empty bowl down on the chilly concrete floor, before crossing his arms across his chest. "So...now what?"

Yourichi stretched back, nibbling on the small fish shaped ice cream she had bought thoughtfully. "Well, for now we wait and see if Rukia's condition has improved at all...And like I said before, we were thinking of sending her to Soul Society to see if fourth or the twelth division can help."

Ichigo's hand clenched his robe.

If she was all the way in Soul Society, how was he supposed to protect her?

_Because,_ a naggy voice in the back of his head answered automatically,_ they're trying to protect her from you._ He grimaced.

"-So you'll just have to stay here for awhile, okay? I promise Ill bring you updates. You can go out to, you know, if you're bored..."

Suddenly he felt it, recognizing it immediately; a immense, heavy and vicious reiatsu that could only belong to a hollow. It increased its pressure even as they stared at each other in amazement; the fact he could feel it was a testimony to its owners force. The dixie cup he had been drinking out of crumpled slightly in his hand. Slowly, it faded away, trailing back toward its source reluctantly.

He stood automatically, Yourichi at his side. However, she grabbed him by the arm as he made a move toward the window. "Oh no you don't. Didn't you see what direction that was coming from? It's probably just near the outskirts of Karakura." she stepped past him. "You stay here. I'll go investigate."

She was gone.

Ichigo stood stock still.

Then slammed his fist with all the strength he could muster into the wall.

He could feel the blood trickling down his fingers as they screamed in protest. He didn't care. He was raging like an inferno at his inability to do anything, to help in some way. Useless. Helpless. It tore him deeper then any blade could. Stay behind. Wait. Keep away. He was miles away from his family, from his friends, from her. He couldn't help her, maybe, but he wasn't going to let some hollow run around where she was lying. But, the common sense side of him called, Yourichi had told him to stay behind, Urahara had said he needed to keep away from Rukia-

Fuck it.

He grabbed Zangetsu and headed for the window.

oOo


	9. Events In Motion: One

I apologize for the wait; it's been awhile, folks. after so long, I am finally getting back on steam to write.

Times have been tough. Extremely tough. First I want to say Im sorry. Ive had a real hard time since I last wrote. But I am getting by now, and thats all that matters.

I got two more chapters in the works. I hope you will enjoy this meager offering of literature.

oOo

It was amazing how fast things could happen. Victory could be just within your grasp, burning your face, before being snatched away in a whirlwind; It didn't matter how strong you were, how fast you were. One mistake, and you're dead. There's nothing you can do.

She felt the on-coming cero moments before it struck the pavement where she had stood, seperating her from her prey-...enemy.; instinct had moved her before thought had even interceded. She felt the crackling energy just a fraction from her face before she flipped gracefully back and landed on a rooftop, blade ready to strike down this new threat. If she had reacted a fraction of a bit slower, it surely would have hit. She increased her grip on the hilt, its edge dripping scarlet from her previous strike.

A tall thin man stood, holding the bleeding...Arran? Arrker? Arranker? What had the Amoeba-man called himself?

"You there, shingami." The cold thin man looked up at her and she could now see the half mask on his face. However unlike the Tiga guy, or whatever his name was that she had been fighting, this ...Arrenqer...Arinkur..., had a more complete mask, and even she could feel the immense amount of reiatsu swelling from him.

The newcomer had fierce yellow eyes, and donned the same white robe the weaker ...Arran-thingie had been wearing. He gazed up at her; there was no trace of fear in his-its eyes. One hand rested casually on his sword-sheath.

"I'll not fight you today. In exchange I shall take this fool-" he shook the whimpering, pudgy man effortlessly with his free hand, "And you will walk out of here uninjured."

Kaneru growled. "Just what the hell are you things anyway?!"

Instead of answering, he turned and brought one hand up to thin air. A seam appeared, a rift in the fibers of reality itself. She knew it well.

"Hey!"

She leaped down to stop them, but the mysterious pair of half-hollows dissappeared, the rift closing up behind them.

Shock by all that had occured was quickly replaced with frustration as she gave a scuffing kick to the now crater-filled ground. Just what WERE those things anyway? She could tell they were much more powerful then any of the regular hollows she encountered on her recent visits to the living world-

A incessant flurry of blips resounded from her cloak. She hurriedly wiped her blade on the hem of her robe before sheathing it and drawing out the rapidly-becoming-a-nuisiance-device.

Uh-oh.

Two dots were simultaneously converging toward where she was. One of them was approaching at a steady rate, its incessant green blinking against the dark grey background. The other however was moving far more rapidly, a slightly smaller white dot coming toward her at an alarming yet impressive speed. The blonde girl mused for a second if perhaps this mysterious shinigami fellow was faster then she-

She heard a whimper come from behind a large slab of broken concrete.

Oh right, the lady.

Quickly she leapt over- The old woman gave a terrified cry at the sudden approach, slung an arm up, clutched the ragged bundle tighter to her and fell backward.

Kaneru alighted above her, crouched on the edge of the slab, offering her open hands in a peace offering. "It's alright Missus. I'm not going to-"

Oh right. Japanese.

"It is alright, Miss." She recovered, the language coming easily to her toungue. "I will not hurt you. Are you alright?"

Seeing as her blade was sheathed, the woman lowered her arm and gave a curt nod, her eyes still filled with fear.

She really was a sorry sight. Her grey-black hair was bedraggled and her long nightgown was burned and frayed. Judging by what Kaneru could see, she guessed she must have died when she was sixty something. Probably in one of these old buildings in a fire; she could smell the faint smoke and fear emanating fom her aura. The old woman clutched the bundle subconciously closer to her chest under the shinigami's observing gaze. Suddenly said bundle gave a wailing cry, despite all that had occured.

A baby's cry.

A tremor of horror tore through the blonde as she froze, realizing what her rescued host was carrying. Ever so slowly, she reached back for the device and took it out with trembling hands, a single ray of red light fell out, fanned out and she let it scan-

Negative.

A wave of releif passed over Kaneru and she felt a soft smile within her, though she forbid it to grace her stern face. "Don't worry miss. Some people are coming who will help you and your...grandaughter?-" the old lady gave a hesitant nod. "-yeah, they'll help you and your granddaughter over to the other side."

Her mind flashed a warning; she could feel the "white dot" coming close; whoever the person was, they were attempting to hide their reiatsu, but she could still feel faint whiffs of it. Not so far off behind it she could feel the massive spiritual energy of the person she was supposed to be watching, following, streaking toward her location. Hm. Not bad speed. But growing closer with every second. She had to go.

It was then the grandmother found the courage to stand up and speak.

"...T-thank you...for-" the woman's voice trailed away, her gratitude evident in her releived eyes.

The blonde's eyes softened.

"Alright then, lady. You take care.-Oh wait, I gotta do something real quick.-" She gestured a sort of, loose salute, then approached her with startling speed, pulling the small metallic object from her cloak.-the old lady gave a gasp of apprehension-there was a click and a poof of smoke-

oOo

Ichigo landed with a slight thump on the rooftop; the strange hollow-reiatsu had completely faded. He could only feel the slowly dissapating traces of its former aura, no trace of the owner. He gave a small growl of anger, then continued toward where he had sensed it last. As it continued to fade, he began to catch sense of two smaller auras, previously hidden by the first. They were small, and if he could somehow describe them, white. Humans.

He scowled in thought, puzzled. He was releived that they seemed safe, but why had the hollow left them be?

He was drawing close-

Suddenly, he was sent spinning as a fist collided with his cheek. His forward momentum caused him to skid facefirst on the air, dazed.

"I told you to stay there!" a very angry Yourichi growled, coming to stand where he lay draped over a nearby rooftop, staring blearily at the sky. He suddenly leapt to his feet, spitting with anger. "Hey! You didn't have to punch me."

Her eyes narrowed. "Like I said. I told you not to come."

He returned the glare as a tense moment passed before he changed the subject. "There are two souls nearby."

"Yeah. I know."

Wordlessly, they went.

oOo

Rukia could not beleive she was still standing.

She couldn't beleive it was possible to be this cold.

To be this numb.

She stumbled a bit, but trudged on, staggering. It wasn't much further-

Suddenly she tripped.

The ground suddenly sloped beneath her as she tumbled wildly down the steep incline. She didn't care as her limbs flailed in all directions. She couldn't feel anything.

After what felt like a eternity of rolling and falling and slamming against the frozen ground, she fianlly rolled to a stop, her face pressed to the cold granite.

Somewhere along the brutal occurence, she had closed her eyes. Slowly, she opened them, with difficulty, as if they were made of lead.

Her vision was blurry and unfocused as she tried to clear her head. It was impossible to move. She could not be alive. It was as if every scrap of strength had been sucked from her limbs. And the cold. Beyond numb. Cold.

She was sitting on her knees now, hugging her bruised, white arms around her stomach. Her vision was blurry, and pain throbbed through her temples, making it impossible to feel. Focus, Kuchiki.

Focus.

She was deep. Deep, deep below; she could feel the pressure through the jagged rocks above her. Yet there was ice down here, and the wind blew, and no light-

There.

A tiny thread of light from an unknown source that was neither up nor down, barely visible, yet enough and her vision followed it wearily as if it were some sort of lifeline, adjusting to the enveloping darkness around her till she could see and she looked forward and up.

And she saw it.

oOo


	10. Events In Motion: Two

Hey everyone. Im not dead. But a load of stuff has happened since I left. I got a good friend who may be drawing visual aids for the story, including summaries on some of the OC's who will be appearing in this story. I apologixe for not uploading in so long, but certain events transpired that made it impossible to upload in time...

Either way, I return to you all older, wiser, and hopefully a better writer. Enough yapping from me then. On with where we left off.

oOo

Kaneru peeked silently from behind the crumpled remains of the chimney at her prey. The thin, pony-tailed woman was attempting to interrogate the poor older lady, not that she would get anything useful. Her kidou, or "demon-magic", had taken care of that. She made sure to keep a fair enough distance away that they could not detect her presence. Yet she could still hear their voices, though faint-

"-large 'demon' attacked you?" she heard the lithe woman say.

The old grandmother nodded, swallowing thickly. Even from this distance she could just make out how her hands trembled with fear at this possible new threat, tightly clutching the child. The boy (her target, she suddenly realized, recognizing the bright orange hair from the profile photo she had been given,) suddenly spoke. "It's alright, miss. We're shinigami."

If he had hoped that such clarification would calm her, he had failed miserably. Aside from the fact that he looked like a punk from some street gang, this additional information caused the woman to gasp and tremble with terror anew; so much so she fell to her knees, holding the bundle so tightly to her chest that Kaneru wondered how the child might breathe.

The teen seemed taken aback then quickly attempted to explain himself. Kaneru snorted with amusement then hastily stifled it and ducked back behind her cover in one fluid motion. Stupid, stupid! Had they heard her? After a few tense seconds, she slowly peeked. Good. It seemed that they had heard nothing. The boy seemed ready to Konso the soul, drawing his sword-

WWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooMmmmmm-

An explosion of reiatsu- It nearly sent her reeling as it rolled over her in a wild surge of pure force. It was simply instinct that she latched onto the crumbling brick before her, anchoring her in place. Broken tiles, chunks of cement blew effortlessly past in the invisible currents; in its wake, a crushing pressure, as if an ocean of gravity had suddenly come crushing down.

She could see the scraggly trees nearby creaking under its weight, power-lines snapped like threads in a flame from their swaying poles; a testament to its power, that it could actually be felt beyond the spiritual plane. The carrot-top boy exclaimed something her throbbing ears could not hear, then took off towards its source, ignoring the cries of his female companion. Kaneru made to follow-

FROMBEHIND-

She blocked the blow with her sheath, then flipped gracefully to the side, countering the barrage of blows; hand, fist, foot, elbow, knee, arm, fist- Kaneru trapped it with a block, only to be surprised by a spinning kick; she quickly let go to counter this new threat with a weighted forearm, drawing her blade and slashing precious distance between her and her attacker. A flash of orange and purple-black hair. The woman. She had discovered her. Without waiting she fled, covering her face with a sleeve; her mind was a flurry of thought. Stupid, stupid, stupid! _Talk about a bad night, _she thought dryly. Just kept getting worse and worse. Why had she volunteered for this stupid- But…at all costs, she could not expose her identity…but she had to keep an eye on her target…but what was that weird reiatsu…but she could not act without-…she groped frantically into her gi as she fled grimly towards Karakura a plan forming quickly in her frantic mind-

oOo

It stood like some ancient forgotten temple, a gargantuan pillar of clouded ice that stretched from the floor to ceiling surrounded by fierce, fang-like shards that jutted in all directions as if they were some sort of alien battlements. The ground of its base was an even, undisturbed frozen pool, broken only by smaller pillars of frost that refracted the dull light like giant prisms into ageless shadows, towering shakily into the rock above. The whole place felt beyond old, undisturbed till now. The wind picked up, shrill and dead; cold, biting…

Through blurred vision and dead senses, she crept closer…

No thought. Just strange sheer instinct pressing her relentlessly till she would break.

Rukia saw pale white hands reach, no longer trembling, grasp the frozen earth, pull. Repeat. Reach. Grasp. Pull. The floor was suddenly luminescent and smooth as glass without any sort of handhold, and she had to force herself on, drag herself on.

Her hands? Dragging her body. Somehow on her feet again; staggering past huge columns of ice that glowed darkly from the unknown light source like guides on some pathway, for her, all for her…

And suddenly she was there, the surface of the pillar like a mirror, but somehow dark, deep within its depths as if ink had been spilled in what was once water- she stumbled and fell to her knees, so close to it she could reach out and touch it's icy surface-

_**So. At last, you come to me.**_

Her eyes suddenly noticed the brutal cracks that marred its perfect surface, thin fissures that went as deep as she could see…

A indescribable fear swept through her, yet her hands moved without her assent, slow, deliberate, closer, closer, thin-china fingers touching ever so delicately against the-

**Yes, my pretty little fool, come see…**

Pressure. A hundred-fold, thousand-fold more strong then any she had ever felt, it crushed her every cell, it came from every direction, she couldn't breathe, her skin was on fire-

Something fighting, winning her just a bit more room, just a bit more space to breathe, struggling against the death-grip hold, she gasped and found she could inhale again, air, cold and sharp, but air, barely; something clutched tightly in her hand, ribbon of strange silk flicked like a snake against her face, brushed against her skin like a familiar hand, the pearly hilt she knew so well clutched beneath her fingertips…

Sode no Shirayuki?

But it wavered in her hand as if on the verge of collapsing; weak, as if she was holding something made of sand, something brittle that would break in a moment.

_**-So you still try to interfere…?-**_

Dark energy pulsated from the cracks in the ice, thick and groping like hands; more minute fractures formed as it surged outward, sweeping like water from a bursting dam. It couldn't hold; the sword trembled in her hands as she clutched it to her like a drowning man to a life preserver-It wouldn't hold. Not against this. It was far worse then anything she had felt before that her frazzled mind struggled to compare with; even in the recent events, those excruciating moments, nothing could compare to this, not this-

Rukia screamed from sensations she couldn't understand- begging, pleading-**stopstopmakeitstop…** something had to give, give or break, or she would go mad, she would disappear into this strange maelstrom within her own soul or outside it who knew and who cared. Rukia was near non-existent only a shell…surely this was a taste of

Hell-

_Don't you dare give up. You have a promise, remember? _A voice. Her voice? Who's?

_Don't die alo-_

You promised! Kuchiki, you-

_Rukia! Rukia! _Someone crying, a woman.

Flashes of memories and maybe some that never existed, flashed through her, in front of her, pieces of film played on fast forward, stopped, reversed, then played again. All jumbled. Nothing making sense. No meaning. Rukia was not here. Perhaps she never was. Just nothing, nothing.

Nothing.

oOo

"-request for further observation." Sayo finished, her blank eyes devoid of emotion or compassion.

The Leader stroked their chin thoughtfully, before gesturing with a hand. "Your request is hereby granted. Further inspection of subject twenty-three is accepted. You will be accompanied with the proper specialist-" A silent woman with steely gray eyes and dark hair that had been standing statue-like in the shadows of the council room, stepped forward, and immediately surprised murmurs rose like moths- "-to determine if the aforementioned is possibly in need of confinement…or extermination." The seated figure bowed their head, and waved them off. "A detailed report on subject twenty-three's status is required in 72 hours. You may go."

The pair bowed, then turned and left with quiet footsteps.

As soon as the doors had closed behind them, one of the cloaked figures that had been fidgeting behind the Leader this entire episode suddenly burst in protest. "What is the meaning of this? Sending your own elite bodyguard?!-" A voice to a tall thick shadow to their direct left growled, cutting them off.

"This is not some simple, infantile case, Naoko. This is an extremely delicate matter; a single mistake, just one slip, and they will to suspect something; what has the Leader told you all so many times? It's our non-existence in the minds of our enemies that has kept us safe all these many decades. Do not be so quick as to underestimate them," It was sharp, a gritty baritone.

"Y-yes Taichou-sama…" Naoko replied meekly.

"Don't use that blasted Japanese title on me. I'm no-" the man began.

"Enough." The Leader interrupted. "But what you say is true. Yet it is more then that. This is a mission only someone of our elite's high caliber is capable of completing successfully. Now return to your duties."

"Yes, Leader." The voices rose as one as the multiple dark forms bowed and departed from the room.

Only once they were sure that all had left the room and were out of earshot did the Leader speak.

"I am sorry for the delay; please do not feel I am negligent of your presence."

A hidden, beast-like figure softly emerged from seemingly nowhere before them, hidden by the still darkness. The leader gave no motion of surprise or tenseness.

**"Itsss about time."** The strange harsh voice growled. It was softly feral, and was accompanied by long hisses of breath as if between long teeth. **"I bring a messssage of dire concccern..."** It moved closer, gliding forward like a ghost with out any visible motion…

oOo

Her pursuer was closing in; Kaneru marveled at the speed and in the back of her mind, felt a sort of ecstatic admiration.

She stopped, her feet gouging the air as she skidded to a halt, turned and waited.

Reaching into the folds of her gi and pulled out a simple mask, strapping it to her face to shield her identity; bone-white, it's face featureless save for two narrow slits for eyes. Kaneru knew what she had to do.

The reiatsu vanished.

She was dubious for second, frowning in mild conf-

ATTACKFROMTHELEFT.

She ducked the fist strike, so fast she could barely see it; another was coming and now she was blocking, dodging with ease. The blows came at an impressive rate as she felt herself slowly being pushed back. Finally she drew her blade and slashed two strikes back and forth in quick succession as before; her attacker shun-poed out of the way just a hair's breadth from the razor edge.

They stood apart, gazing at each other. She was a agile woman, with long purplish black hair tied back in a ponytail. She wore a skin-tight black suit, an orange shirt-thing with white shoulder pads and footwear that reminded Kaneru somewhat of go-go boots. Where had she seen her before? Was she one of the profiled targets…? "Yu" something…Yuki? Yuchi? Kaneru peered at her again. Her eyes were, striking, a fierce golden yellow like a cat's; indeed, under their watchful gaze, waiting to see if she would make some treacherous move, it made her feel as if she was some plump-bird.

Silence, as the continued to calculate their opponent's capabilities, waiting to see who would make the next move. She broke the silence.

"Not bad, miss. What's your name?" Kaneru's voice was even and cool, barely hiding her pleasure.

"I'm not the type to hand out my name to strangers."

"Fair enough. Call me Kay. Now we aren't strangers anymore."

"Shihouhin Yuroichi. I heard you on the roof. Who are you?"

"Let's just say I have some business in Karakura."

Yuroichi's eyes narrowed. "And what would that be?"

"None of your business."

"It is now. Will you come quietly?"

"Nope."

The woman did not reply, but continued to glare, and it was then Kaneru noticed that she was panting slightly. So she had had a bit of a time keeping up with her during the chase after all; she grinned beneath the wood mask. She took a step forward; instantly her opponent shifted to a fighting stance. "Well, your keeping me from my work. And I'm afraid I can't let you go after seeing me."

Yuroichi's eyes widened.

The blond vanished.

A blade rested near her throat, cutting free a few strands of purple-black hair.

"Forgotten Arts. Flash of the-"

Yuroichi slammed her head back, hearing a loud _OOF, _as her head collided with her captor's chest, then shun-poed to the right-

WHAM

A fist to the cheek sent her sprawling towards the pavement; she flipped and skidded on all fours, but- WHAM – a kick to the ribs sent her rolling again. Yuroichi was utterly bewildered as she struggled to detect where the next attack would be; somehow her opponent's speed seemed to have tripled from her chase- Had she been merely leading her to a place to be ambushed?- she sensed the oncoming kick, blocked it, dodged the barrage of blows and finally regained her footing-

"You know this would be so much easier if you'd just give in!" the blond woman called from above. She was sitting comfortably on top of a nearby telephone pole, purposefully drawing her katana. "Sorry, but I gotta end this. Things to do. Places to be." She raised the sword above her head, a glinting sliver against the slightly cloudy sky.

oOo

Ichigo was racing as fast as his feet could carry him, rooftops and streetlights passed as blurs past him; he knew that reiatsu, twisted and immensely deformed as it felt, almost unrecognizable.

Rukia!

Forget that he had to stay away. Forget that he might somehow be to blame. That energy, twisted as it was, different as it was, was definitely hers. But what made his heart race so fast now it seemed to rise to his throat was not because he recognized it as the reiatsu he had come to know so well, but the fact that he felt something else all to well, even now as it faded away before him, back towards its source; something that-

_**SHRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH…**_

A hollow's scream echoed through the air, slicing through him like a knife-

This was rapidly becoming tone of the worst weeks he had ever had in his entire life.

oOo

The store and the two vacant buildings beside it were mere rubble; flames roared up from between the twisted bits of metal frame, slabs of concrete lay strewn about amongst the fragmented I-beams-

A seeming explosion sent another plume of dust and flame whirling into the sky and out; a figure flew backwards from it, skidded, then wrenched to the side as a pillar of ice erupted from the ground where he had been standing-

"Scream, Benihime!"

A surge of blood-red energy burst forth from his blade back into the dust cloud, only to be repelled by unseen forces, hurtled straight into a electric pole and exploded on impact. Live wires jumped and danced around as sparks flew wildly about.

Suddenly a shockwave pulsed out from the depths of the swirling debris, clearing the air instantaneously; the tiny particles fell tinkling to the ground, now frozen shards of ice.

Far down below, in the wreckage that had once been the room housing Rukia, a small form sat on hands and knees. Around her, the entire floor, the surrounding walls and everything within at least ten feet of her was frozen over with ice several inches thick, huge jagged icicles jutted from the ground like some immense, spined creature striking a defensive position.

Rukia, still adorned in her ripped shihakusho, rose amidst this bizarre landscape with head bowed, slowly staggered to her feet. She stumbled then slowly straightened, turning in Urahara's direction with slow deliberation, her hair flying in a sudden gale. The air was thick with wildly fluctuating energy, battering. Yet it was suddenly deathly still, quiet, save for the flames crackling here and there and the shards of frost still falling from the sudden chill.

This close he could observe her much easier; her whole body was held at an almost zombie-like state, shoulders sagged, and posture leaning awkwardly to the right; Dull midnight-blue eyes were half open, unseeing as if she were unconscious. Her whole appearance was a mess, the bandage on her shoulder was red again from the reopened wound, and even from his distance he could see an all to familiar black creeping up from the corner of her eyes.

Without warning, Rukia suddenly raised an arm spreading her fingers curled, and a massive wave of ice shot up from the ground with surprising speed, growing in size as it speed toward its target; Urahara dodged to the side, then pulled something from the depths of his cloak, threw it.

The tiny objects clattered at her feet, then swelled into immense gooey puddles that sucked her feet down into them. However, a mere wave of a finger and they froze solid; she broke free from them with ease. He aimed another blow, but a crystalline shield of frozen material took its impact, then began to creep over the steel of his blade; Urahara broke it free and leapt a few feet away, sliding slightly on the icy floor.

"Kuchiki-san!" It was surprisingly sharp and commanding from the (most of the time,) easy-going merchant. "Listen carefully. Focus on my voice-" He dodged as a another perilous wave of ice erupted from the floor beneath his feet, but suddenly, three separate pillars seemed to rise around him, closing in-

A hand grabbed the back of his shirt, shunpo-ing him out of the way in the nick of time; the crushing ice snagged the corner of his cloak and began to freeze up toward his body; he quickly slashed it free and turned to his savior.

"Great-timing as usual, Yuroichi-san."

Yuroichi nodded, a ugly bruise spreading over her cheek. "No problem." She glanced around. Where's Tessai?"

"He took Ururu and Jinta to a safer location."

She nodded then jerked her head in Rukia's direction. "This is a bit more then we expected."

Urahara straightened his hat. "We must be getting old. All our assumptions are off lately." He dodged a chunk of frozen concrete as large as a car.

Her face grew grim as she watched the dangerous situation unfolding before her. "We got to hurry and get this under-control, that orange-haired idiot will be here soon. I couldn't-"

She was interrupted when a sudden pulse of foreign energy knocked her from her position; immense, overwhelming black energy pulsed out from the ground like huge enveloping tentacles, wrapping themselves constrictor-like around Rukia, pulling her down. She shrieked in an inhuman voice and pillars of ice stretched uncontrollably in all directions as she struggled to free herself.

A small masked figure emerged above her, hands poised-

"Chains of heaven strangle, pillars of earth rise and crumble under assault of a thousand black ocean waves, come down from the north by Rythian of many fangs, spell of constriction; Forgotten Arts, Red Curse Seal!" the girl's shrill voice roared.

The ground trembled then cracked as glowing red lines spread across it, stretching into an immense ornamented circle; in its center, Rukia struggled against the shadow-like appendages holding her down. They watched in shock as the circle slowly grew smaller, drew tighter around its victim; Her shrieks were unbearable and shrill…

"Scream, Benihime!" Urahara didn't know what this stranger was up to, but he wasn't going to wait around to find out-

The crimson energy arched like an arrow, streaking towards the newcomer-

ZZZZAAAAAAAAAAASH

It split in two, diverted to either side by the still smoldering blade; yet another stranger with the same hidden features; a blank mask with two narrowed slits for eyes. She lowered her weapon, sheathed it. Her hair was tied in a high, tight ponytail that accented her slightly ragged shihakusho like a black ribbon that trailed past her shoulders. There was no mistaking the nameless and fearsome aura emanating from her presence.

A murmur, a blur, a smell of acrid smoke all too fast to comprehend; Urahara crumpled to the ground far below, soon followed by Yuroichi, unmoving. The woman tucked the small metal tube she had concealed in her other hand back into her robe.

"Hurry, Sayo." she called to the girl, still struggling with her incantation. She studied the area over, checking here and there among the wreckage, then rose and swept the entire devastated scene carefully under her gaze, once, twice. Satisfied their were no more witnesses to take care of, she glided down to wear Rukia lay restrained, her body writhing in agony and panting like a wounded animal, her eyes rolled back into her head to reveal the white's of her eyes slowly being consumed by inky black-

The woman set a pale hand on her forehead, mindless of the ice freezing over her fingers-

oOo

Ichigo was nearly there; he wiped the blood from his bleeding forehead out of his eyes. He was still seething with frustrated rage at the delay and cursing his own luck; a hollow had chosen that exact moment to emerge nearby and attack him. Ichigo's blood spattered robe spoke to the unusual ferocity and brutality he had taken in eliminating this unwanted distraction.

There was no hint of the aura to speak of by now, but more concerning was the huge plume of smoke billowing up ahead, a visual guide to the disturbance.

Suddenly he was on the scene of the crime, and his heart flipped. The Urahara store was non-existent; a flaming twisted wreckage was all that remained. Huge steel columns seemed to have been ripped right from the foundations and lay strewn about; the buildings on every side were heavily damaged by shredded chunks of concrete. Where was Urahara? As if to drive the point home, he saw the shopkeepers body lying draped over a chunk of broken road, the bright orange-outfitted Yuroichi lying not far. He immediately went towards them, fearing the worst. However as he drew nearer, he heard Yuroichi give a small groan, then slowly sit up.

"Yuroichi-san! Are you okay?!" he yelled, relieved.

She stood and grimaced as she felt her back. After checking herself over, she waved back. "Yeah. Explosion caught me off guard."

Catching sight of Urahara however, she quickly went to his side. After a few tense seconds she breathed a sigh or relief as he began to move under his ministrations. "Don't worry. He's fine." Suddenly her eyes widened.

"Ichigo! Rukia is still in there!"

He had already turned the minute she said "Rukia", and searched frantically over the ruined building. In the midst of the destruction, a small circle of silent frozen ground, slowly melting, bizarrely out of place in this disaster zone, and lying prone in its center…

"Rukia…" his voice whispered hoarsely, his throat felt strangled by unseen hands, and the feeling left his body-

oOo

Faces she couldn't see or remember, souls she had saved and lost - She was a street-rat, with fingers light and quick she stole the old-man's purse, a slight gnawing guilt but also triumph knowing that at least tonight, she would be fed; hunger, steal, eat, hunger repeat again, repeat again - Students snicker as her merciless opponent sends her flying back, a bruise of a bokken upon her chest, laughing - Nobles stare contemptuously, the ladies in waiting gossip behind closed doors but not closed ears, each word a rock tied to her ankle as she struggles to swim in this new world of manners and graces and people she dare not even glance at, so foreign a life - a city, she stands like some stone guardian, watching, black against the ever-changing skies, fooling herself into believing this is where she belongs, that she is strong, lies-a curiosity over the life of living she never had, never got a chance as she watches the humans scurry like ants unmindful of her silent presence, invisible to them and the rest of this existence; yet another strange world she doesn't belong in, just like all the rest – Then suddenly she's thrust into yet another world. A boy, merely a boy, with hair of warm colors and arrogance, juvenile, immature - an accident, another stupid mistake done by her again and suddenly she has a bond she never had before, never asked for – friends, suddenly warmer memories, happy times though she knows the time is running out, enjoy them while they last, so precious, precious, she gathers them up greedily like a miser gathering golden coins from the dirt – then suddenly, times up, the end. Her link to a world she might have wanted to belong to, dead, because of her. Another innocent life on her head, disrupted, destroyed. Resigned. Give up. The end. She gives up, gives up everything –There is news, strangers here, shattering the deadly peace she had resigned her life to be ended by; trapped in a tomb of white stone, she cries out from her soul for them to run, run away; go back to the wonderful life they have ahead of them, but also somewhere deep inside, a feeling she can't describe rising up in her chest; joy, perhaps, that she matters to others, despair for she knows they have walked into the jaws of death itself- It is the end and she begs a last wish, one last hope, that they will let these people she suddenly cares so desperately about go, one last thing she may do to protect them- Fire, flaming destruction awaits to obliterate every molecule of her being, she closes her eyes- and suddenly, He is there, and she realizes just how much taller he seems, and his shoulders are broader, like a mans', but he's still a jerk, and he's still immature, but different somehow, she is different, somehow- and when they look at each other, they speak without sound- because of the bond of a sword? Or something else? A bond of friendship? – Friends, girl with hair of auburn and gentle kindness, boy of cold forgotten race, a childhood friend returned to her, a silent man with shaggy hair, even a older brother, the list of blessings stretching on an on, of things Fate had so graciously bestowed upon her – Friends, something that resembled a home, family, somehow here she is, a woman, a girl in a story, a unfinished drawing on a page – A boy with orange hair and strange chocolate eyes and a destiny changed all by her fault, forever changed; a man with dark hair and gray-eyes and dead, dead in her arms, guilt, shame, give up, give up GIVE UP-

Rukia! Rukia! A woman screaming.

Suddenly everything stops, the pain, the agony stops, released at last, something seals the door shut, voices, she watches the bitter ice vanish under flashes of steel, images blink around her; she must be dead, she wonders absently. Floating, drifting slowly towards the surface like a kite suddenly set free after a storm- Something grabs her like a savior's hand, guiding her, dragging her, rushing back, back into comforting blackness that she knows, away from the turmoil inside her, black that doesn't strangle or crush, only sleeps…sleep, and she will begin to forget, she will not remember-

"-kia! Rukia! Wake up, dammit!" slowly surfacing, up, away from the comforting dark. Conscious. Voices, as if she's underwater, dull and lost. A pinpoint of light, growing, widening slowly before her. Something shaking her, the sharp pain in her shoulder forcing her to wake.

Rukia opened her eyes slowly. They felt like lead. Meaningless colorful blurs danced before her vision, slowly sharpening. Warm orange burned dully in the circle of her vision. She remembered it vaguely. Strange. Comforting. The picture grew unsteadily clearer, and she saw a face, yellow and deeply shadowed from firelight, two caterpillar eyebrows scrunched tightly together in concern, a scowl, with lips pressed tight together. A small trickle of blood trailed from his bright orange hairline down past his brow, to the corner of his mouth, down his chin. Her eyes finally traveled up to his and she didn't recognize them, couldn't understand what exactly she was seeing, not knowing anything except that she had never seen them such a…such a amber-brown. Well, maybe once or twice before, maybe.

She closed her eyes. Never had she felt so exhausted in her life. Every muscle, every cell trembled on the edge of total collapse. Rukia wondered if she should say something, but she couldn't think, let alone speak, her whole mind and body felt oddly blank. The circle of light, the window of her vision was closing into black again anyway. And with that she drifted into the sweet embrace of sleep.


	11. The Eye of the Hurricane

oOo

Orihime arrived on the scene just as the last fire went out; her eyes grew wide as dinner plates when she saw the magnitude of the destruction up close, hand flying to her mouth in horror. Earlier, she had returned home to bring a change of clothes, (for she had planned to stay by Rukia's side till she awoke,) had felt the unusual reiatsu and seen the large plume of smoke in the night sky. It was only now that she realized just how bad it was. Not far, away from the wreckage, Tessai, (who had returned,) Yuroichi, and Urahara were deep in discussion, their bodies held tense and uneasy. Jinta and Ururu were rummaging frantically through the wreckage, salvaging what they could and carrying it to safety. However her attention turned to where, not far from them, a familiar orange-headed figure was crouched beneath a streetlight, cradling a motionless form in his lap-

"Kurosaki-kun!" she called, racing towards him. He looked up and she was taken aback by the floods of emotions welling fiercely in his eyes, coupled by the blood trailing past his brow, down his face. For a moment he seemed almost puzzled at her appearance, then his attention wandered back down to the girl he was holding quietly in his arms. He was in a world of his own.

"I-I…Is she…okay?" Orihime whimpered, her voice quivering. In the back of her mind, she berated herself for not being nearby when such a terrible calamity had occurred. What had happened?

"She's breathing." He replied flatly, bowing his head again; she could not meet his eyes. "I'm not sure what…she…" his voice faltered.

There was silence as they both watched her chest rise slowly up, up, up then softly down, awash in the sickly glow of the streetlight. Soon, Ishida and Chad also arrived, short of breath, and asking, "What happened?" but were shocked into silence as they the gazed at the devastated scene presented before them.

Suddenly Yuroichi appeared, prying Rukia from Ichigo's grasp. This time, he did not protest, did not even make a move to resist; the fight seemed to have gone out of him.

"Okay. Urahara and I have plan. We-" Yuroichi began, shifting the girl's weight in her arms.

" Just what good is a fucking plan when we have no idea what the heck is going on?!" Ichigo suddenly exploded, standing upright. His whole countenance was flooded with raging emotions. "What good is it when you…she…I…" Just as quickly, the anger left him; he deflated, a broken shell, his statement unspoken, but clear.

_What if they couldn't save her?_

oOo

Uneven darkness.

Muffled voices, as if she was deep under water.

Rukia felt very, very tired, as she drifted in that place between consciousness and sleep. Slowly the sounds sharpened into guttural tones she could understand.

"-And if you add prune juice and soy sauce, and just a hint of marmalade, you can make the most delicious broth for noodles-" That voice she recognized for certain as Orihime's, the eager bubbliness and foul recipe she was describing instant giveaways.

"-Err, not to interrupt Inoue-san and as much as I would like to try your…um…noodles, I think I just saw her arm move-" The second, more morose and almost pained voice was probably Ishida's.

"What? Really?!"

Rukia felt a incessant prod on her shoulder; she flinched involuntarily, then slowly opened her eyes. The plain wood ceiling slowly focused from a brown blur till finally she could see the finer details of its glossy surface. A familiar face with large, doe-like eyes appeared at the side of her window of vision.

"Kuchiki-san! Can you hear me?"

Slowly, her face contorting with the effort, Rukia forced herself into a sitting position; gentle arms helped her up, one pressed against her back and the other guiding by the arm.

"Thank you… Orihime." Rukia croaked; her voice sounded frail and unused. She looked past Inoue over to her right where Ishida was seated. Leaned against the wall behind him sat Chad, who raised a hand in greeting.

"How are you feeling Kuchiki-san?" Ishida asked hesitantly. His blue-eyes flickered with concern.

She closed her eyes as a wave of exhaustion flooded her. "Tired." She murmured truthfully.

Rukia could feel sleep creeping over her again, but she struggled to keep awake. "I…what…ha*cough*…happened?" she whispered, leaning wearily against Orihime for support, head bowed. Her vision began to blur over, smudging the details of the simple blue quilt bunched over her knees.

She could feel the girl's body tense, and then a tentative voice replied, " Kuchiki-san, I think you should get some more rest-"

"Where's Ichigo?" Her eyes closed. She was losing her battle to stay conscious.

Silence.

"He's fine." The deep baritone voice of Chad rolled over her like a warm blanket. "Don't worry."

A small twinge of something in her chest, when her half-awake mind realized he wasn't there. Another pause, then finally, "Is…ev…everyone…safe…?"

"Yes". Three voices answered.

Relieved, she nodded and let herself be embraced with the sweet darkness of sleep.

oOo

After Orihime had laid Rukia back down onto the fluffy covers of her mat, the trio went out into the hall to discuss their situation. Almost two weeks had passed since Urahara's shop had been decimated to utter ruin and rebuilt again in the space of two and a half days, to the utter amazement of all. (He refused to divulge how he had done such a monumental task, grinning mischievously.) Since then, Rukia had been in a comatose state since that devastating night, unresponsive and limp till today. Samples of her core reiatsu showed no appearance of the strange "venom", or any other anomalies, much to everyone's relief (But suspicion and uneasiness rose in certain others). However, the strange, unknown toxin had done its damage, and she was in for a long recovery. Just to be safe, however, Urahara had ordered that Ichigo stay away till it could be clarified just what the relationship was between her "illness" and himself. And if she showed signs of outbreak again, she was to be taken to the large underground room where not so long ago, Ichigo had trained to rescue her from Soul Society. But now instead of a mark of progress and improvement, it was to act as a containment area if she showed any ominous signs, lest she create more havoc and damage noticeable to the world outside. Urahara was taking no more chances.

"I'm just happy Kuchiki-san is okay…" Orihime sighed. She had bags under her eyes, a testament to the many nights she had stayed up with her "patient". Ishida and Chad too, showed signs of weariness. While they couldn't stay as Orihime could, they visited as often as their daily life would allow, as if to make up the lack of a certain orange-haired teen.

Actually, of that exact moment the three were talking, said orange-haired teen was sitting on the rooftop of the previous "bunker" in the Hideki region Yuroichi and Urahara had confined him to. Since that ominous night two weeks ago, he had grown insatiably moody, spending his time roaming aimlessly around the area (under the strict vow he was not to set one foot in the direction of Karakura, not that he wanted to anyway, at this point). Two weeks, and everything felt like everything in his life had gone crazy, turned upside down and inside out.

He missed his family, even his crazy goat-chinned father. He missed his friends, he missed his room, heck, he even missed Kon, and that was saying something. But despite his best efforts to ignore it, his brain kept offering up gnawing questions like "I wonder if she's woke up yet" (despite the fact Yuroichi had promised to bring him the news as soon as it occurred) or "I wonder if they've found a way to help her yet". (She had promised him that too). That was one of the worst parts of this whole scenario. Ichigo, a person who could not bear to see someone he cared about in trouble, or in pain, could do nothing. It was not like when he had rescued her from her execution in Soul Society. There, he had fought tooth and nail to reach her, had sacrificed so much just for that "one more step" he needed to save her.

And he had. Against all odds, he had snatched her from the very noose itself, with the power she had planted, no, awoken inside him.

And now he could do nothing but sit back and wait.

It was maddening. It was the itch he couldn't scratch, the enemy he could not hit. He wondered vaguely if the people that came to his family's clinic when their loved ones were hurt felt the same way, of not being able to help somehow, other then stay out of the way. He grimaced at the thought as if he had bitten into something nasty. But what really tortured him, no matter how much Yuroichi, or his own thoughts attempted to console him, he could not erase the dark thought plaguing him. That it was all his fault, somehow. He could not erase the images of finding her facedown on the bathroom floor, the scarlet red and small delicate shards of shattered glass twinkling in her hair, the dead eyes, the ivory-white skin near-lifeless to his touch, the motionless body in his arms; then, her screaming in agony beneath him, her hands unfamiliar, trying to tear free from him like a rabid animal, the whites of her eyes, the pressure threatening to envelop his skull, _aflashofbonywhiteandgrinningteethandblackspreadingacross-_ He shut his eyes painfully, shook his mind to try and clear the images from his vision-

"I thought I'd find you up here."

He glanced toward the corner of the roof where Yuroichi had swung up with one hand, a bowl of steaming ramen in the other. She landed lightly beside him, then offered him to steaming meal. He merely gazed off into the distance, ignoring the offering.

"Oh come on. I went to all this trouble to order it and then bring it up here…"

When it was clear he was in no mood for it, she sighed and sat beside him with a thump, dishing out a pair of chopsticks from her uniform and consuming it herself.

"…You know, Rukia woke up today."

That got his attention; he looked over with hungry, inquisitive eyes.

"…But…it wasn't for…very long…" her voice faltered, hating to dampen his spirits; his face fell and he turned away from her again.

The evening sky was thick with heavy clouds, their gloomy, overbearing presence seemed so close overhead that you felt like you could almost reach out and touch them. A sudden rumble of thunder filled the silence between them and the lithe woman set her now empty bowl carefully on the tiled roof.

"Rain's coming. We'd better head inside."

She got up, taking her eating ware with her. For a moment she waited at the edge of the roof, but when it became apparent he was not going to follow, her eyes softened sadly and she slid over the side and vanished from sight.

The air was tense, waiting for the coming storm. Ichigo glared up at the rain-heavy clouds, as if daring them to release their load.

He felt a small drop on his cheek.

He bowed his head again and did not move even as the skies opened, soaking his clothes down to his skin, even when the thunder rumbled just overhead.

Not far away, a figure pulled the hood of her cloak up to keep the rain from reaching her blond head. She watched from her viewpoint tucked in the branches of a nearby tree, as the orange-haired boy remained motionless in the shimmering downpour.

oOo

Urahara threw the tattered book into the mountainous pile by his desk and stretched his arms wearily over his head. Three days after everything had been rebuilt, replaced, and remodified, his office looked worse then before; Chinese food cartons lay strewn about, some with food molding over inside them, coupled with tussled papers, old files, countless rolls of parchments, and several piles of ancient-looking books covering the floor knee-deep so you couldn't see the new fuchsia carpeting he had put in. He yawned then proceeded to pick up yet another even more decrepit looking book from a small stack on his desk. With tired eyes, he began to rifle through the first few pages, grimaced, then threw it on the unstable pile. In one corner of his desk that was not overrun with the surrounding mess, stood a lone vial in its stand. The familiar cloudy blackness swirled quietly about; it was one of the soul surviving samples after the fiasco. The other three had been presumably destroyed as well as other artifacts of value (fortunately, many had been safely preserved in a secret armored vault under the store, one of the few places in the area left untouched). Among the ruined possessions, was the shop's supply of cream-buns, which at the moment, Urahara was sorely missing. He wished he had thought to get some of them earlier, when the shops had still been open.

Without warning, the office door slammed open and a very wild, furious, redheaded man stormed into the room, scattering papers and books in his path.

Urahara gave his trademark grin. "Why hello Abarai-san! I was not expecting to see-"

"Cut the crap." Renji growled; he was seething with rage, his face and neck was rapidly approaching the same hue as his trademark hair color. "Where is she?"

The smile fell from Urahara's face, replaced with a serious yet glaring expression. "News must travel fast. I wasn't expecting you to come so soon-"

"I was notified by one of those scientist geeks of a "reiatsu spike" at this location. Then I ran into Orihime on the way in here, who told me everything." he spat. "Apparently, no one wanted to bother to tell me anything. Now I'll ask again. Where is she?"

"She's fine right now. She's in the room down the hall, to the right. She even woke up today for a bit. But before you go-" he called, for Renji had already made to move back the way he had come, "-there's something important I need to know. How many other's know of Rukia's condition now?"

There was a tense silence. Then Renji spoke; some of the anger at not being informed had left him.

"Nobody else. I was sent here to investigate it. The most anybody knows right now is that it was some sort of "abnormal reiatsu fluctuation", or whatever that geek guy said." He replied flatly.

"I don't want anybody else knowing, for safety's sake, understand?" Urahara replied coolly. "Not another person. No reports on this."

Renji paused, then nodded, before exiting the room, papers slowly fluttering to the ground like leaves.

Urahara rubbed his eyes tiredly. It was going to be a long, long week. After griping sarcastically in his mind about the feeding cost alone for all his new "guests", he turned his mind to more pressing matters.

True, it seemed that whatever "disease" had been attacking her had been dispersed in her recent "berserk stage", as he termed it. Her body now seemed to exert no presence of foreign matter. He wished he could believe that that was that, and she would recover normally and he could go back to eating his cream-buns instead of looking for something useful in the vast library he had collected/stole.

However, something kept nagging at the back of his mind and in his gut. Life, being life, never left it simply as "that was that". His instinct told him there was something more to all that had happened, something much larger and dangerous. Small details came up like silent witnesses; he had had strange recurring dreams of flashes of light, and acrid smoke echoing in his nostrils. And try as he might, he could not remember a few moments before the explosion that apparently knocked him unconscious; after later discussions with Yuroichi, she had told him how she had received the bruise on her face from a hollow she had encountered enroute to the scene. Upon casual inspection, he had seen the impressions of knuckles, suggesting that it had been inflicted by a much more human enemy. And the story she had gotten from an old, female ghost recalled that the hollow had "left". This was unlikely, unless she hadn't been seen by it; unfortunately they had no way to check her story, since she and the child with her had already been konso'ed. But most of all, was that during the fight, he had thought he had seen that strange blackness creeping over the whites of her eyes, something that he had only seen a extremely few times before…

True, they were minor trivialities. A part of his mind scolded him for being so nitpicky. But the tense feeling in his gut did not waver.

He reached over to the stack and grabbed yet another ancient book, glancing quietly at the vial in its stand.

oOo

It was another day before Rukia woke again.

Same as before, her eyes opening to a blurry sideways world; the colors, the shapes slowly sharpening as her pupils adjusted to the light, revealing a floor, a thick ceramic bowl with a white towel draped over its rim, and one sleeping Orihime, her body lying exhaustedly on the floor, her eyes shut tight. Rukia blinked for a moment, then slowly evaluated her body with her mind. She still felt incredibly weak, her arms barely responsive as she rolled from her side onto her back.

However unlike before, she felt a bit stronger, although her limbs still felt drained of most of their strength, but she sat up with a grunt, pulling at the bed sheets to help her. Once there she took a moment for the dizziness from her sudden movement. Since she had made it that far, she thought, she might as well try to stand up.

Puffing and sweating from the exertion, she crawled on all fours to a nearby wall, then slowly, using it for support, pushed herself up. Tottering unsteadily on her legs like a newborn foal, she managed to walk a few steps toward her sleeping warden, bending down to touch her shoulder.

"Inoue."

The girl snorted in her sleep and rolled to the side.

"Inoue, wake up."

She continued to fidget when suddenly, her eyes sprang open and she sat up so suddenly, Rukia lost her balance and fell flat on her bottom.

"Oh my goodness your awake! Oh Im so sorry! I didn't mean to- But you're awake!" the girl squealed, her eyes bright. Suddenly she surged forward and hugged Rukia tightly. Rukia gave a hiss of pain as pain shot up from her shoulder, prompting the girl to let go immediately as if burned. "Aah…I'm sorry…I forgot…" she murmured, her gaze downcast.

Rukia sighed then a small smile crept upon her features. "It's alright." She made to stand again, when a growing commotion approached them from the hall, theirs ears catching snatches of conversation-

"…don't see…let me take that…"

"…think…better if I…so clumsy…"

The door opened, and Renji, donning a hot-pink apron and a tray of tea was arguing with a rather peeved looking Ishida. "I told you, that time with the Miso was just an accident-" he caught sight of Rukia, frozen in a half-standing, half-kneeling position, and dropped the tray in surprise; Ishida made a dive for it and snatched it inches from the ground, sloshing the tea everywhere.

"RUKIA!" Renji bellowed. "YOU'RE AWAKE!" He looked so pleased, despite wearing such a ridiculous outfit that she merely stared for a moment before bursting into laughter.

"Is she okay?" Renji asked anxiously as she sank back weakly to her knees, still chuckling. "Is she having some sort of hysteric- Oh." He quickly took off the apron throwing it aside, his face red.

"I'm glad to see you up, Kuchiki-san." Ishida offered, glaring daggers at Renji as he tried to clean up the tea. Completely ignoring him, Renji was too busy grinning from ear to ear.

"Mmm." Chad greeted, entering the room. Behind him, Ururu and Jinta clamored for entrance. They carried trays laden with snacks for the guests. Rukia politely declined, as she didn't feel very hungry. ("But Rukia," Renji and Orihime whined "-you have to build up your strength!") It was a happy occasion, albeit she didn't understand what was going on exactly. But something was missing, something that made her chest feel a little empty…While the others dug into the snacks, Rukia asked the fatal question.

"Could someone tell me what happened?…" she asked quietly.

Instantly, the festive mood died, and the group exchanged glances. No one made to speak.

"Ah Kuchiki-san!" a familiar voice interrupted. "Glad to see you awake and moving!" Urahara stepped into the doorway. "Now if you'll excuse us folks, I'd like to have a little talk with Kuchiki-san. Ururu! Jinta! Show our guests into the…guest room!" He waved them out the door with a wave of a fan. With some reluctance, the group slowly shuffled out, leaving the two alone.

"I invite you come sit back in your bed, and if you'll excuse me-" he leaned down and suddenly ripped a white patch she hadn't noticed before from her arm with a yelp, "I'll just be removing this. Don't worry, it was just a nutrients provider while you were unconscious…Now, where was I? Oh yes, do come sit comfortably here. I'm sure you must still be exhausted…"

She obeyed him and shuffled back to her blankets. He took up position on the pillow next to her bed, fanning himself lazily.

After she had situated herself, she calmly waited for him to begin, staring at him patiently.

"If you don't mind, please tell me what you remember."

"Well…I" she cleared her throat; her voice felt strange and hoarse from disuse. "I remember…I was attacked by a hollow. And I got back to Ichigo's house and then…nothing."

"Mm-hmm. I see." Urahara murmured.

"…w-well, actually…I do remember…" Rukia suddenly blurted out.

"Yes?"

"I remember being carried. And the smell of blood."

"…"

"..A-and…I think…I was cold…"

"Ah."

"…But that's it." She finished, folding her hands in her lap.

The shopkeeper's expression turned serious and she suddenly noticed the weariness in his expression, his haggard appearance. "Kuchiki. What I'm about to tell you may be…" his voice trailed off and he looked away as if unsure of whether to speak.

Rukia, however, no matter how weak she was or however damaged she was, was still Rukia. "Go on." She ordered, her gaze, strong.

oOo

"Requesting entrance." The tall, dark-haired woman called. It was dark inside the hall, revealing only the faint outlines of two people, one short, the other tall.

"Enter." A commanding voice called.

Sayo and the Guard opened the large paper-screened doors, then proceeded into the hall, kneeling. "We have returned, Leader."

The Leader nodded then gestured for them to stand. "Well…was your mission a success?"

The woman bowed her head, her falcoln-grey eyes revealing nothing of her thoughts. "…Target was successfully quarantined and examined. Here is the report." She handed them a small, square device. With withered, wrinkled hands they accepted, touching a key; the screen lit up, words slowly scrolling down with pictures of the damaged area, displaying measurements, and pictures of the target themselves and her surrounding fellows. After a moment's watching the Leader's face grew grim. "…I see that subject twenty-three was not…rehabilitated."

"No." The dark-haired woman replied. Her eyes were emotionless and cold, piercing and without remorse. "The seal is only temporary. At most, it will last three hundred and fifty-two days, or nearly approximate to a year. After that, she will have to be…" here her voice grew icy, "…taken care of."

"Oh? And why did you not just take her then and there?" the shadowed-figure replied gruffly. "You could have saved yourself a lot of trouble."

"I made some curious…discoveries, about this particular subject, which I noted in the report." She nodded towards the small device. "But from what I have seen, she can live a normal life for a little while longer before interference is needed." The woman lowered her head as if in thought.

"That is…unusually merciful of you." The leader remarked sarcastically.

"With all do respect; -" and here, she lifted her gaze with slow deliberation, cold and sharper then knives, "-I did not act out of mercy. I will be trying to convince her to submit willingly later on after her initial recovery. I feel as if she is wise and logical enough to negotiate with. If not, I will take the fall. And with your permission, I'll be taking lead over this particular 'project'." Her voice made it clear she was not accepting an unfavorable answer.

"This is a most unusual turn of events…I am surprised you have taken such an interest in this case…" they mused. "Very well. I see no reason to keep you forthwith. You are now in charge of the case of subject twenty-three. I will be requiring weekly to monthly updates. Do you wish to have any assistance?-"

"If it pleases you both," Sayo spoke for the first time. "I would like to be permitted to work on this case as well. I feel my knowledge of this girl and her surrounding environment, as well as certain aspects of my…skills." There was a silent pause.

The tall woman finally tuned to look at her, causing Sayo to freeze and the hair on the back of her neck to stand on end under the intense surveying gaze. However after a moment, the woman gave an approving nod. "Very well. I will permit to have Sayo to work under me. If I need anything or anyone else, I shall put in a proper acquisition form."

"Alright. You are free to leave; I wish to read this report further, in detail. But one more thing. Please report to whoever is watching over subject sixty-one; they are not to move without my express orders. And yes, I know that recently communications transmissions are down. We will be doing it the old fashioned way." They waved them off, turning their attention to the device they held.

"…As you wish, leader." The new team replied. They quickly sat up and departed.

The withered hands gripped the device like claws, moving every-once in awhile to scroll through paragraph after paragraph with growing unease.

oOo


	12. The Newcomers

oOo

Kaneru took a big swig of cola, wiped her mouth on the back of her sleeve with pure enjoyment; it had been ages since she had had a good cola. She threw the bottle into the knapsack she had tied around a tree limb, then reclined back in the tree she had taken residence in lately. To be quite honest, she was bored out of her mind. For the past two weeks, nothing exciting had happened since she had fought and erased the memory of the purple-haired chick whose name she couldn't always remember. The orders had been thin and few, just "observe Target Sixty One", "continue surveillance of Subject Sixty-One ", and so on. The carrot-top had done pretty much nothing except mope around and stare at the sky. Or go out on long, pointless tangents around the city, wandering aimlessly from rooftop to rooftop. On which she had to follow, keeping her reiatsu in check. Which was tiring. The sheer boredom was maddening.

With a sigh, she plopped down on the rather too-familiar branch and groaned. It was already a cool evening after yet another boring day of sitting. And watching. Him. Do. Nothing. Below her, the streetlights along the streets began to flicker on, bathing everything in their dull orange glow. She pulled out the small square device from inside her gi and began scrolling through Subject Sixty-One's file. Again. For the umpteenth time.

It was a pretty sorry file, though not surprising since they had only just begun to host a majority of their missions in the mortal world again. They had only the barest facts, since Leader had given the go ahead for missions to begin again in the "living" world a few months earlier. She knew that their were "certain people of interest" being trailed, though how many or for what purpose, she had no idea. Not that she cared.

Kid was named Ichigo Kurosaki, mother died at the tender age of nine. Had two sisters, a Yuzu and Karin Kurosaki, (who had no file on them whatsoever,) and father, named Isshin Kurosaki. Isshin Kurosaki had an even more meager file then his son, though he appeared to have shinigami capabilities; his family appeared to know nothing of them. But getting back to the target. The kid had a lot of reiatsu. Annoyingly alot, actually. Even though she wasn't particular sensitive to reiatsu, she could feel it even now, a hint of immense spiritual pressure. But it was constantly, _constantly_ on high blast. It was a wonder he wasn't attacked every forty-three seconds by hollows…

Speaking of hollows; the screen scrolling his stats suddenly blipped out, then flipped to another screen featuring a map of the surrounding area. A medium sized red dot materialized in the upper corner, heading toward a white dot not far from where she was sitting. Only a good half-mile or so. Scanner estimated a slightly above normal hollow.

Eh, it was small time. (She gave an extremely unlady-like yawn) She needn't bother really, since the local shinigami should be able to handle one measly-

Another beep and a red dot.

Then another.

Suddenly, her screen was alive with red specks; it was if it had sprouted chicken pox. She stared wide-eyed as dots of varying size sprouted everywhere; at the same time "WARNING!" scrolled across the top of the screen in large black print on a yellow background; "ABNORMAL HOLLOW ACTIVITY DETECTED. LOADING PROPOSED PLAN OF ACTION. REPORTING TO THE CENTRAL COMMAND ARCHIVE. PLEAST STANDBY FOR FURTHER INFORMATION-" Already on her feet, she quickly tucked her knapsack over her shoulder; torn, this didn't really have anything to do with her…She had the kid to watch-

-_redfloodinghergaze,;shewatchedasitrippedher,rippedthegirl,topieces-_

She shook her head, resolute. Without a sign, the tree was empty and the air was filled with electricity...

oOo

As the rift/portal closed behind them, the lead figure took an eager step forward, touching one of the rusty metallic structures littered around them. The air was cold and still, and no light from the streetlights reached this strange trio as they took in their surroundings.

"This...mortal world?…Dark. Not how Kaneru say." The female voice was quiet, uncertain, followed by several large pronounced sniffs. Her tone was that of one who did not speak often, a low, suspicious, silky sound. She ran a hand slowly up the metal bar of what had been a jungle gym.

"That's because it's almost evening, idiot! Honestly-" a second female voice replied curtly. Her tone was tinged with arrogance, a harsh voice that hinted at a strict, calculating owner.

"-Hey 'thar now, take it easy on thee lass, Monkey. This 'er her first time here, ya know." The lazy, unsophisticated drawl broke the verbal barrage with ease. Its easy-going baritone syllables were marked with a slight slur of each word like messy finger-paint. "There's no reason to get yerself caught up in a knot..."

"Oh… I'm sorry Kinuko, I didn't know… That was rude of me…" The second voice sounded mulish and uneasy.

"…" The air was filled with tense agitation.

"Oh, come ON neyw. Let's all play nice, ya he-uh? Whaddya say, Silktop?"

"…Kinuko forgive." The voice sounded grave, if not slightly dejected.

"Thar we go, now don't that feeh bettuh? Always good to get that sorta stuff right thar, out in the op-"

"Shut-up! You guys are getting me off track! How on earth did I ever get suckered into going with you two?!" The second female voice snarled, fully recovered from her previous setback. " We have a very important mission to do! We need to focus!"

"Yes, Miss Monkey." The voice was mischievous, followed by barely hidden snickers.

"…Daniel, I swear if you call me by that nickname ONE more time, I'll-" she growled.

Suddenly the first figure stiffened. "…Hollow coming. Smell. Come soon." The sentence was punctuated with a low growl.

"Aw, Silktop, thar probably nuthin' speshul, the regular shin-what-not can handle it-" the young man groaned, stretching his arms above his head and ignoring the beeping sound emanating from his pocket.

"Not one. Many, many." She was silent for a moment. "…Too many. Not normal."

The other two absorbed this information, then without warning dived for their pockets pulling out the beeping objects to observe them. Within a moment, they were all bickering. "Well love, I say we go and teach these 'ere buggers a thing er two-"

"Daniel, were not to intefere with the mortal world, you know that! Our orders-"

"Well, I shor ain't gonna just stand 'ere while those bloodthirsty monsturs have an all-yer-kin-eat-buffet, to hell with the damn ordurs-"

"...Kinuko think we should find Kaneru first."

"What for? Why that bitc-"

All failed to notice how the shadows under their feet seemed to deepen, or how like the tendrils of a vine, they drifted up past their ankles and down again to the pavement like a fog-

Suddenly they became aware of the ominous prescence, and they froze. The silent figure, the black, slanted eye-holes of her white mask, were immediate giveaways. Beside her, Sayo resheathed her katana, causing the thickened shadows to dissipate. Without a word or greeting, she immediately set herself on closing up the rift they had just entered from. The woman gazed coldly at each in turn till they dropped their eyes before she spoke. Her voice was oddly plain, devoid of feeling or anger, just a deathly cold quietness that spoke volumes without saying much. It was muffled by the wooden lifeless mask covering her face.

"I will not tolerate such unprofessional behavior."

"M-my humble apologies, Taichou; these two, they distra-"

"I do not want your excuses, Meng-Jun." Her reply was sharp and efficiently cut her off like scissors cutting a thread. "I have been sent her on a mission of importance. I have no time to deal with the squabbles between the three of you. If you cannot behave yourselves, I will order you to return."

"Yes Taichou". The three answered quickly.

"Now. Here are my direct orders. We are not to interfere with the events of this world. You are not to interact with and living or dead. You do not exist in this world anymore."

The young man dared to interject, his voice hesitant but stern. "Wit all doo resspect, M'am-"

"My order is final. No exceptions." She turned away then stopped. "...Jun."

"Yes, Taichou?"

"...I want you to patrol this location." She took out a small slip of paper which had a long string of numbers written upon it.

"...Taichou?"

"Scan it. If any hollows appear in that location, you may eliminate them. Do your best to cover up your tracks. Leave as little trace as possible." She turned back and nodded to Sayo that they must leave. "Oh. And Meng-Jun. Look out for falling bricks."

"Yes Taichou." By now, they knew better to question her peculiar orders.

"Sayo."

"Yes Taichou." she unsheathed her blade, a thin katana of unusual dark steel. " Bend and break, Akuma Mesai." The darkness surrounding them suddenly seemed to bubble at their feet like tar, then with a soft _whuuuuuush_, it swept over them like waves over a rock; just as suddenly it dissipated, leaving the space empty and its occupants gone.

Shiori quickly scanned the paper into her small black box before crumpling it and putting it inside her gi; the screen blipped into darkness for a moment before drawing up a map and highlighting their goal in neon green, suggesting a route with least chance of arousing suspicion. She quickly calculated the distance, amount of time, the- "So arr ye ready yet, Monkey?" The boy grinned.

"...Daniel... What did I say about calling me that stupid nickname!?" she roared.

"I dun remember." He grinned wider, scratching his ear good-naturedly.

"LIAR." she snarled. "Why if Taichou hadn't-"

"...Kinuko thinks we should go now. What if she comes back and scolds us again?"

"Er...yeah, gud point thar..."

Meng Jun sighed and rubbed her eyes. "Fine. Can we go?"

"Surh thing! Lead the way, Monke-"

**SMACK.**

oOo

Orihime carefully set the tea tray upon the mat beside Rukia, then slowly poured the contents of the spindly silver kettle into the two matching cups. She glanced up worriedly at the motionless dark-haired woman.

Inoue tugged the edge of her skirt uncomfortably. Ever since Urahara had spoken to Rukia in private, she had sunk into a deep depression, her eyes far away in deep thought. Though her strength was slowly recovering, she had hardly moved from the bedside, sleeping only when she pleaded with her to rest.

"Anou…Kuchiki-san…"

Broken from her brooding, Rukia turned as if she had just noticed her arrival her eyes wide in surprise. "Oh. Sorry, Inoue." She accepted the steaming cup from her, taking a long, thoughtful sip (with a slight grimace) before sinking back into a reverie.

Orihime gave a sigh and drank a little of her own strawberry/syrup/cucumber flavored tea. It was hard enough knowing Kurosaki-kun was silently suffering miles away, but it was even worse watching Rukia firsthand and not knowing how on earth to help…

She knew if she were Rukia, she would have already found a way…Just like before when she had helped Kurosaki-kun-

Suddenly Rukia stiffened, her head shot up attentively. Her hands clutched the empty cup turning her knuckles white.

"Did you feel that, Inoue?"

"Eh? Feel-"

Without warning the air became a roar, a flurry of splintered wood and shredded material; she heard Rukia screech and grab her by the shoulder, forcing her face down on the floor before throwing her own frail body protectively over her. She could feel huge vibrations emanate from the floor beneath her; as if a giant was stomping all around her. The only sound was the tearing of steel and wood, and screams (perhaps her own) and a dull roaring that slowly overtook all else, punctuated by a single ringing tone in her ears. Through this nightmare of sound and feel she glanced up through where Rukia's arms shielded her face to see a vision of horror; a huge bone-white face, almost reptilian with hundreds of needle-sharp teeth dripping with gray saliva, nine yellow eyes peering from oddly placed holes, where no eye should be; its grotesque nostrils quivered eagerly as it drew nearer, great shaggy hair sprouted out from the back of its head like a mane; it withdrew the arm that had so easily shattered the side of the bedroom and stretched its huge clawed hand eagerly toward them-

"Scream, Benihime!" A flash of red light sliced through the debris-

With a demonic shriek it recoiled, quickly redrawing the stump of its arm; Urahara quickly placed himself between it and them-

"Kuchiki-san! Inoue-san! Run for the basement!" he roared, blocking as a spine suddenly erupted from the ruined hand, nearly impaling him.

Numbly she felt hands claw at her dress, dragging her back toward where the doorway lay in ruins, forcing her to her knees, to her feet, stumbling madly away, even as she could hear the hollow shrieking and another explosion sent her keeling over-

A second pair of small arms seized her arm and tugged her guiding her as she followed blindly; her thoughts seemed oddly distant and her senses dulled as if underwater…

oOo

Ishida checked his watch, shifting the shopping bag to his free hand. It was already almost seven; the sky was dyed red and orange as the sun began to set. He would make a quick stop at Urahara's shop then head home for the day. He hoped that Inoue was getting enough sleep after watching over Rukia for nearly half a month now…

"Ishida." A deep, gruff voice greeted.

"Oh, hello Chad. I was just on my way to see Inoue-san and Kuchiki-san."

"Mmm."

"Er, you going too?"

"Yes."

The two stared at each other.

"…"

"…"

"Shall we go?"

"Yes."

The two started awkwardly down the sidewalk, silent. Ishida groaned inwardly- though he was good friend with Chad, it was always a struggle to come up with a topic of conversation. The mexican giant beside him offered no cue or clue on something he'd be willing to talk about. Eh, after all, it didn't really matter all that much, since he himself never liked talking all that much…

A mental tug his Quincy powers lent him and that he was all too familiar with cut his thoughts; he stopped and Chad stared questioningly from beneath his shaggy hair.

"It's just a hollow, Chad. I can handle-"

Suddenly he could feel his senses jump again; a jolt, one after the other-

"Chad-"

By now, even though Chad was not nearly as keen at sensing changes in spiritual pressue, had tensed, his gaze turned in the direction of...

"Urahara's store."

Ishida suddenly became aware of a presence behind him; he whirled around in time to see the pale glowing yellow-red eyes and the flash of a dark shape before he crashed to the pavement-

oOo


	13. Hounds of Hell

I apologize for the delay, I've had a lot happen to me, alot on my plate, etc. etc. (Same excuse you hear from most author's on here, I reckon). Through my daily struggles, (And the passing of my grandmother who was dear to me, after a long battle with spinal cancer) I have attempted to grow both as a writer and as a person, and since then, I've tried to make some changes in my life and improve upon myself. I uploaded the previous chapter after a long an arduous struggle swinging between lack of internet access and lack of time. I have requested a good friend of mine to draw concept work for many of the characters and upcoming items that you will read about in hope of enhancing your viewing pleasure. She doubts her own skill alot, and while I may be no artist myself, I can see she has something resembling talent. When she has done so, I shall post a link at the bottom to respective sketches.

My joy at returning cannot be measured in my weak attempts through words; I have not forgotten your warm and encouraging comments, and I fear that I may be to late to enjoy them again. I hope I am not. As a apology gift, I present you this big fat chapter and...well, you shall see.

Enjoy.

oOo

Nightmarish.

That was the only way to describe them, as they slowly circled around, closer and closer like sharks around a stranded raft. The air was filled with their twisted, threatening growls, low and high pitched tones mixed as one voice; Ishida felt his back brush up against the wall, his hands still trembled slightly as he recovered from his previous shock. He could still feel its heavy weight pressing down on his body, and when it leaned its muzzle down, there escaped from its mouth a breath that so foul it was almost beyond description. It was not the heavy, humid stench of a large living mammal; rather it was like a ice-chilled gust that smelled like old abandoned attics and decaying forgotten places. For one terrible second he felt for sure he was a dead man. Then a surge of energy blazed by him, knocking the creature off of him with a screech.

They reminded him of dogs, or better yet, wolves, but much much larger. And faster. And tougher. His first impression was that they were some sort of strange hollow that he had never seen before, and maybe to an extent, they were. But at the same time, he could detect nothing even slightly inclined to suggest these were former-human souls, nor did they bear the trade mark holes through their chests. They seemed to have no energy source, no reiatsu that he could detect; more like they were vacuous black-holes, always hungry, but always empty.

The bone-like "masks" seemed fused with their heads, and they had too many eyes all pale yellow with no iris and glowing like shards of a diseased sun, tinged around the edges with sickly green or blood-shot red. The largest eye was placed "anatomically correct" position, but on either side of it two smaller ones revolved; three upon one side of its boney helm and three on the other. Their powerful quivering jaws held sharp black fangs adorned with clear glistening strands of saliva and a deep blue-white tongue which swept over them hungrily in a somewhat ominous manner; From the rim of the skull-like face, two rather long and sharply pointed ears like a doberman's but much larger and longer lay back against the massive head in a state of aggression.

Their front torso was like a hyena's, with a broad thick chest, powerful neck, and muscular shoulders hinting at its strength, yet their legs were long and thin, warning that it was a swift runner and an attempt to escape would be foolish. Strange spines sprouted from between its shoulder blades, and a spine-like plating grew down from them out to the thick whip like tail trailing from it's hindquarters. It was safe to say that whatever this fiendish looking thing was, it was tailor-made for killing. A beast from an unspeakable, hellish nightmare yet in it's on terrifying way, a sort of grim beauty, a simple creature perfectly designed for what it did without frills or tassles.

But it wasn't just their appearance that made the fear swell in his chest like this. He flashed back to Hueco Mundo, when Ichigo had gone up to fight Ulquiorra. It had felt like an ocean above his head, the vast depth and power of it staggering. But this, this was like the sound of static visualized, as if the contrast had been turned way up on the images flashing before his eyes, the shadows so much deeper and their masked faces so much paler. So bizzare and yet so unnervingly dreadful.

Beside him, Chad's "Giant's Arm" was still smoking off with the expelled spirit energy; the beast that had pinned Ishida was still up, but smoldering on one side and limping as it eyed them warily from behind it's fellows. A testimony to their endurance, since not even Espada could stand up to one of Chad's blast. And their were about six of the damn things. Needless to say, the situation, did not look good.

Ishida drew his bow and to his surprise, the creatures shied away from this new source of light, retreating at least a precious step back. They continued to snarl and trotted silently outside the invisible border separating them from their targets. Chad moved back to back with Ishida and prepared to arm another blast.

One particularly large one, with scars peeping through the purplish tinged black fur on its body boldly stepped forward, growling a warning. Tt's bold example set it's comrades in a frenzy and they to drew closer.

"Do you have any idea what these creatures might be Ishida?" Chad asked quietly as his eyes smoldered beneath his bangs. He eyed the nearest one with a grim look.

"Not the faintest. Though I think we can say for sure that they aren't friendly." Ishida added dryily. They were much closer now, and at any second, they would switch from caution to attack as they drew closer, closer...

Then suddenly, they stopped.

It was if a dog-whistle had been blown. Unanimously, their ears perked up and the beastly heads turned in the direction of where he and Chad had been walking towards. The growling stopped as they stood at complete attention, listening and attentive. The strange, sickly yellow glow of their eyes burned with sudden anticipation. Far in the distance, he suddenly became aware of the sounds of combat, and the smoke rising into the sky...

Without a signal or sound the pack rushed away like shadows, completely forgetting the Quincy and his quiet companion.

Ishida let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, but even as releif came, his blood froze. That smoke, that sound was all coming from-

"Urahara's shop." Chad finished his thought.

With that the two raced after the devilish dogs.

oOo

Rukia dragged Orihime with her as she navigated through the twisted wreckage; debris was still flying as the battle between Urahara and the demonic looking-gillian escalated nearby; Ururu had seized Orihime's other arm, and helped pull her along; the poor girl seemed to be in shock. Her eyes were wide and bewildered as if she was waking from some strange dream.

Rukia however, was in a surge of adrenaline and fear; her thoughts a blur as she fought her way away from the combat. Their progress was slowed both by the seemingly-hypnotized Inoue, and the wreckage and fire blocking their way; to her dismay she found they way to safety blocked with fallen timber. They'd have to get to the front-door. The smoke alone was becoming overwhelming and she screamed above the noise for the other two to get down towards the floor; somewhere calmly in her mind a voice was talking just loud enough for her to hear, _She had to get them outside-In Ichigo's school, during the fire drills, she rembered them teaching her that the smoke rises, leaving air below it-She had to get them to safety-_

They crawled on hands and knees and somehow, she felt the outline of the door; she took a deep breath and leapt to her feet, her eyes watering and tried the knob before throwing her small frame against it; on the third try, it suddenly burst open and the three tumbled out into the ruined front yard.

Outside, the giant hollow screamed in frustration and rage as it tried to crush the tiny man that evaded its moves; their was a flash of red here, a flurry of movement there, and a torrent of red-black blood mingles with its primal shrieks of pain; but their was no end to the creature as it quickly regenerated lost limbs, sealed over its open wounds. Crimson red blasts of energy screamed through the air, slicing into the Hollow's flesh. Another hulked form joined in the combat; Tessai smashed a fist into the masked face with such force the air itself shook.

A particular powerful blow from Urahara caused the Gillian (For that was what it indeed was,) to stumble back; Rukia threw herself into Inoue and Ururu as a giant foot crashed into the pavement where they had just been watching the battle, instantly turning the air opaque with dust and chunks of cement. They scrabbled blindly in the cloud of debris, trying to get farther away from the battlezone.

During this whole time, Rukia's senses seemed to be tuned to the max of her surroundings; thus she noticed from the corner of her the flash of a darker form among the grey screen around her. She tried to turn and take a second look, but just like a fish in the river, it quickly fled from her motion and the shadow dissappeared into the fog around her.

Their was no time to wonder; her ears could tell her they were still much too close. By now Inoue had recovered from her shock and was whimpering and coughing. Slowly, the dust was beginning to clear and the trio began to stumble/run away farther to safety. Finally they made it a full block away, taking shelter in an alley between the two buildings as they all sought to catch their breath. Rukia bent over her knees to catch her breath, on hand holding her up against a wall and rested a moment. Even here, the dust and sounds were sifting past them.

She heard a growl. She looked up.

They came from nowhere, six monsters straight out of the fiery pits of Hell, instantly surrounding them on all sides, Their grey outlines mere silhouettes against the hazy air, and too many ominous glowing spots for each one. Their bodies closed in through the curtain like a shark fin slicing through the water; though Rukia and her comrades were coated in dust, their sleek black sides remained untouched. It was now that Rukia could get a closer look.

Almost the size of a horse, they towered over the three girls, their black teeth like ebony spikes as they lowered their massive heads and drew closer. It was almost too much for her. Was this some sort of nightmare she was having? She was almost tempted to pinch herself when she realized that the distance between her and that bone-crushing jaws was rapidly dissappearing. She reached for her sword only to find her hand grasping air. A cold sweat broke out on her neck. She had left the blade behind in the confusion.

So...that left kidou. In her condition, she had no idea if she could pull of any sort of spell to take down these monsters. Her mind and heart were racing.

But something was wrong. The beasts were still snarling, but it was quieter and seemed almost...troubled. As if confused, they walked 'round and round, not drawing closer, but not backing off either, eyeing them with what she took to be puzzled glances. But already it was passing as a large one stopped and surveyed them silently, watching. It's ears flickered back and forth towards them, and the battle farther away.

Rukia's mind raced furiously, but she had thought of a plan. A near impossible one, but she could think of nothing else.

"Inoue." her voice was hardly a breath. "On the count of three, I want you to set up your Santen Kesshun and run to that fire escape with Ururu. I'm going to draw them off." She prayed that the things wouldn't be able to climb up after them.

"N-no Kuchiki-san! I can't-" her eyes grew large when one of the beasts made a large snap at her; they were growing restless and more confident.

"Please Orihime! I can use shunpo and I'm a faster runner then you are; I'll be okay. I can handle it." She tried to force confidence into her voice, even though the vision of herself falling before these nightmares made her voice tremble.

"...K-kuchiki" Her eyes were large with fear as she tried to press closer to the dark-haired girl.

"1....2..."

Without warning, the big scarred one lunged for her, it's massive jaws wide...

oOo

"Four hundred and...*grunt* fifty eight..." Kaneru growled as she wiped her blade clean of the hollow's blood. Its still form was already beginning to fade away. "I must be getting out of shape..." The blond groaned, rubbing her thighs. She swept the thin layer of sweat on her forehead away with a black sleeve. The beeps from the scanner had finally begun to die down; the city was silent now, unaware of the catastrophe that had nearly occured.

It had been a long and weary night. She had nearly run into Mr. Emo Carrot-Top twice so far as he scurried frantically about dispatching of what hollows he could find though he was obviously having trouble. In the back of her mind she mentally blessed her little weirdo pals back at base who had designed the small black device she now held in hand. She grimaced for a moment. Just where were the others though? Surely something weird was going on. Why hadn't anyone come to investigate or at least send her an explanation? A chilled, early morning breeze ruffled her hair. At least all the excitement had finally died dow-

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!

"What now?!" She growled, but she stopped. Static crackled from its speakers as the screen warped and crackled with specks of grey and white. Numbers and letters without meaning flickered through the haze.

And then it went dead.

Confused and annoyed, she shook the thing and tried pressing a few buttons. Nothing. After a moment of fiddling around with it, she finally gave up and tossed it into an inner pocket of gi with no small amount of frustration. Goddamn useless technology.

"Who are you?!" a familiar male voice called out.

_Shit._

oOo

"-3! Go!" Rukia yelled; she slid beneath the outstreched paws as the thing leaped at her; with a yelp it collided face first with the brick wall, but recovered in an instant and began the chase. Rukia dodged as one made a lunge for her and glanced back where Orihime was still standing paralyzed with fear. "Inoue! RUN!" she screamed as she ducked beneath the swipe of a large paw. The orange haired girl snapped from her shock and threw up her Santen Kesshun just in the nick of time; and then Rukia had no tme to look back at them; she was running at a blind panic out of the alley, farther away from the sounds of battle nearby.

It was true, she had Shunpo which allowed her to stay ahead of the beasts. But only just by the barest margin; even when she tried to zigzag they seemed to be able to track her every move. And they were fast. Oh God, they were fast.

She leaped to a rooftop, hoping the height of the building would slow them down; instead, like a well rehearsed team of acrobats, one braced himself atop a dumpster in a alley. His fellows leapt from the ground to his back to the roof, using him like a step ladder. Left behind, he continued the chase from below, following her shadow. Their were five of them with her now-

-_which meant one had stayed behind with Inoue-_

Without warning she made a sharp turn to the right, rebounding off a nearby chimney; they turned with her motion with ease, as if they could predict her every move. She feverently prayed that Inoue and Ururu would be okay-

Suddenly she became aware they were no longer behind her but on either side, effortlessly keeping pace with her at her top speed. The corners of their terrible jaws was turned up in a feral grin of what she presumed was amusement. Were they just toying with her? Could they have caught her anytime they wished? Her blood drained from her face when she considered that she had left poor Orihime to face one of these demons alone-

"Ye lord! Mask of flesh and bone, flutter of wings, ye who bears the name of Man! Truth and temperance, upon this sinless wall of dreams unleash but slightly the wrath of your claws! Sokatsui!" A brilliant pale blue flash leapt from her fingers and struck the beast to her right in the side. With a yelp it stumbled but soon recovered, its chest smoking but unmarred; it eyed her maliciously with its lidless yellow eyes. The one to her right made a lunge for her and caught the edge of her sleeve and with a triumphant snarl, jerked its head in the opposite direction; she stumbled but thankfully the entire sleeve tore free and she quickly flipped back to her feet and raced off again.

Focus. She had to focus. She wasn't far from the river; here the houses gave way to huge warehouses, some used but many abandoned and slowly succumbing to the wear and tear of time and weather. Strong sickening smells of spilled chemicals and rotting material rose to greet her, even from this distance-

Wait.

_They were like dogs, dogs track things by smelling-_

A plan began to formulate in Rukia's mind.

oOo

Inoue felt her arms shudder at the impact as the dog-thing smashed against her Santen Kesshun for a third time; above her Ururu screeched for her to climb up as she pelted it with whatever she could get her hands on. Orihime tried to grab a rung behind her without taking her eyes of the hideous thing to mantain the shield protecting her. Small fractures appeared across it vibrant orange surface, gradually growing as the blows it gave a terrific leap smashing into the barrier in an effort to force her from the ladder, knocking her away. She tripped and fell to her knees as it scratched at the barrier, it's black teeth flashing as the air grew thick; her mind was in a whirlwind of memory and thought and confusion and-

Without warning, the shield broke.

Time seemed to slow down as the dog blinked in surprise then made a victorious leap for her, it jaws lined with onyx teeth open, no sound except her heart throbbing in her chest with grave finality.

Inoue blinked.

The dog's muzzle was mere inches from her face as it paused. She saw its glowing eyes grow wide.

Then it crumpled soundlessly to the ground. It's jaws snapped close for the final time and landed in her lap.

The glow of its lidless yellow eyes grew pale then faded; deep, dark red blood oozed from two gaping wounds that had apparently punctured through the front of its massive chest to its back, and from the bottom of its jaw all the way to the top of its skull in a neat medium-sized hole she could see all the way through, a dark hole tinged with grotesque red and other pieces of flesh she dared not imagine what they be.

Her fingers went up to her mouth as she sat in wide eyed horror.

It became apparent to her ears that the air was filled with muted whispering; the shadow beneath the thing's corpse grew darker and liquid- like ink, pooling before her and slowly wafting over the corpse of the deceased canid, drawing it down hungrily into itself, down into what should have been a solid floor; she rembered a t.v show where they had shown an octopus slowly wrapping its tentacles and pulling in its prey. Except instead of strange suckered covered arms, they were like strands of gooey tar of every size wrapping tightly over it, a predatorial blob. Almost tenderly, the tendrils of solid black took the gory head from her lap, dragging it down after its body into its yawning depth.

The shadow drew in on itself after the vanished form like a backwards ripple, compressing in on itself till it dissappeared into nothingness. The alley was empty, strangely silent save for Ururu crying hoarsely for her above.

Orihime gasped and realized she was crying; her legs and arms trembled with unspeakable terror at what she had just witnessed but also with releif. Releif that she was still alive, that those dagger like fangs had not ripped the flesh from her screaming bones- "Inoue!"

Like a lost, bewildered little child, she blinked up into the face of the familiar voice through eyes that were blurred with unexpected stray tears. Ishida's blue eyes burned with concern and confusion as they caught sight of the blood on her skirt and her seemignly unharmed, trembling body. His body was heaving from the exertion of running and she could smell sweat permeating from him. The world slowly went mute as his hands rested on her shoulders and he watched as his lips began to make movement of speech. Something finally broke within her and her hands reached and gripped folds of his shirt, pulled his chest to her face and began to weep into the comforting cloth.

oOo

Rukia struggled to calm her beating heart as she lay motionless in some unidentifiable filth. Already, her nose was growing used to the horrid stench of whatever she was hiding between as she peeked out from her hiding place.

She had managed to pull ahead just slightly of her pursuers and slid under the huge iron door of a crumbling warehouse; inside was barely anything except rows of long empty steel shelves, scattered pieces of litter, and few large, long expired barrels of what might have been fish or something stacked forgotten in a corner. One thankfully was empty, turned on it side; she dived straight into it willing herself not to vomit from the sench and nervouse exhaustion now choking her limbs. She dared not imagine what their contents might have been for the sake of her churning stomach-

She froze as she heard the screech of metal being torn free and clattering to the floor, followed by the soft pad of many paws on the cold cement.

Her heart leapt to her mouth as she tried to hold her breath.

They snarled angrily, knocking shelves over with a resounding crash in their frustration. Their claws clicked coldly as they padded further away and she relaxed just a hair. The sound stopped and all she could hear was the too-loud sound of her own muffled breathing and throbbing heart. Suddenly without warning, the encompasing barrel was sent flying, she felt her forehead crash into the rim followed by a trickle of hot warm liquid trail past her eyebrow. The world was spinning in a nauseous blur as she felt something knock it flying again; it smashed against a wall, crushing it. She lay dazed and battered amongst its scattered remnants her face against the cold cement floor. She pushed her torso off the floor, her view to be confronted with the columns of sturdy legs and grinning skull-faces with lightly glowing pale yellow eyes...

She was done.

Her strength was gone as even now she desperately summoned the energy to repel them somehow, to somehow keep alive. So helpless and weak, like a rabbit in the clutches of a falcon's talons, a exhausted deer surounded by wolves. She had no strength, no energy, her legs trembled white amongst the tatters of her robe-

**_Who are you trying to kid? You're already dead. Unless-_**

_That same pressure, contorting in her chest, wrapping its icy fingers around her heart. Something only one word could describe..._

_Power._

oOo


End file.
